Ignorance Leads to Temptation
by vvrules21
Summary: Two years after the infection, Nick is now in control of his predecessor's mafia. Can he keep control of himself when Ellis is brought to him forcefully? Most importantly is Ellis safe from Nick's own trusting men? NELLIS SLASH! Nick and Ellis belong to Valve.
1. Chapter 1

Two years.

It had been two years since he had seen the boy. The optimistic, cheerful, smiley, and buoyant teammate was now right in front of him, on his knees secreting so much blood that it started to burn his retinas.

He could have laughed at the irony, but he only wanted to cry. Two years ago, the last time he had seen him, he was bleeding and covered in yellowing bruises, only this time Ellis' eyes were not bright with any form of hope for safety.

They were dull with the tranquilizers that had filled his head like an overflowed cup of water. His lids dropped slowly yet frantically trying to make sense of what was happening.

"He-l-p." He let out a shallow sounding and abrupt breath, finally his shaking eyes rolled into his head and he collapsed into Nick's chest, the gigantic mutilation on the side of his face staining his shirt crimson.

It was his entire fault. Every slice in his golden skin, all the embodying marks. All of it was caused because of him, not zombies this time.

Why did he even take this job? He could have stopped all this. He could have if he had not let it all go to his thick head.

"Mr. Vitale sends a message to one of his best men." The man had secret written all over his face, even over the dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. He was wearing a suit that would be expected from a federal agent or something of the same department.

The government was the last thing this man was working for. Nick knew that right when the hidden man had stepped into his run down condo. He had this familiar aroma that he had grew to know over his years pre-infection.

"Tell him I don't give a shit."

He waited for some reason before answering, his hands folded in front of him and his stance straightened competently.

"I cant do that. He's dead, Mr. Bianco." Nick looked up at him from his stained sofa. His raised eyebrows drew out his surprise.

"In his will he has left a Nick Bianco to take his place in the family. His superior position." He said with his cheekbones rising underneath the glasses, prompting that he was squinting at Nick with some sort of resentment.

Nick wanted to introduce the asshat to his middle finger, but kept his palm flat on his stomach. He knew he should have felt awkward that a stranger was in his home while he was in nothing, but his boxers lying lazily on his ratted out couch watching some god-awful jersey show.

Then again Nick should have cared about a lot of shit going on his life. Whatever, it's not like it was anyone else's life. It was his and if he didn't want to do anything then he wasn't _going_ to do anything.

"Fuck off. I don't want it." He turned back to the dancing pictures and colors on his television.

The man's lips uplifted into a unnerving looking smile. He took off his sunglasses and wiped them on the collar of his shirt casually so. "Mr. Bianco, I have traveled a long way to come and find you. Mr. Vitale's wish was that if you didn't accept, then his men are ordered by my command to come after you."

Oh you old bastard, still trying to break his life in two even in death.

"Mmhmm, I am so sure that you would do that. Cute gesture really, but I quit a long time ago and I feel like I have worried about the safety of my life enough through the flu, so buh-bye." He swatted the air motioning for the man to leave.

If Nick had been looking he would have noticed that the grin was still spaced out on the man's face.

"Sir, I just send out one text message and your house will start melting like candle wax. Please don't make me ask _again_.

Nick recognized the meaning behind the graveled syllables instantly. This guy wasn't playing around nor wanted to play around. Then again he thought really hard. So what if he died? Not like he had anything he wanted to do with his life…or anyone.

Woman had been a lost interest over the past year and a half, they used to line themselves up at his door in an orderly cue to just bring out Nick's guiltiest desires.

Then he got bored with them, relationships were complete and utter bullshit, and so that was a no go for his life.

Then he thought about his gambling, now that was some fun. That was some meaning to live.

Nothing like getting those dopamine glands pumping full blast every time he won a hand or rolled that sweet pair of dice and it landed with a gentle thud expressing how lucky, or skilled, he was through a pattern of dots. Now that was worth living for.

All that power had to come with a substantial amount of money, enough to get him out of the rat infested and cockroach holding apartment. Okay maybe a whole boatload of money wasn't too bad sounding.

Maybe even some free samples from the merchandise wouldn't hurt.

Vitale was always good to him too, almost like a father figure. Only instead of giving homework help he was teaching him where exactly in someone's skull the bullet could penetrate, but keep them alive.

God damn it he was going to regret this, he knows he's going to regret this.

He rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch, giving out a tittering groan from stretching out his locked joints.

"Let me put on some damn pants." He muttered out the words lazily moving to his bedroom.

Talen, he learned his name the same day as he had learned that the man was now his faithful second hand man. If he had to be notified of something urgent, Talen was the first to report to him. He always had the Intel on the drug sprees, the chemists, the negotiations and prices, Talen handed him all of it.

Nick would probably have been shot if he hadn't had Talen with him.

Over the span of several months, he learnt to trust Talen like his own left eye.

That is the only and whole reason as to why he had agreed to fix a situation that led to his old teammate's rock bottom down fall.

He had no name, no picture, no information _until_ it was too late.

Nick had been sitting at his desk in the paid off secluded housing unit near the city of Boston. He was shaving through some files about the new meth labs near the area. Checking out the men's background info incase anything fishy came out to his eye.

Talen had just walked in unannounced, the snaps of his heels on the concrete directing he had come in at all.

"We had a small problem with the shipments, but to my knowledge I think its being handled accordingly." The warning in Talen's voice was enough for Nick to lift his head and swallow back the nervous stutter.

"What do you mean _problem_?" He masked his unease with an angry growl, hoping that he didn't seem too obviously anxious.

He normally didn't get so braced over anything the family had to go through, but when he hears that wary tone in his assistant's voice, he knows that something is terribly wrong. Something had really backfired or never even fired.

"Spencer went down to Georgia to pick up the eight kilos," He said with a stiff jaw, "…turns out he had some car trouble. He stopped by at a mechanics and…the kid found the goods when he was under the car," His eyes were now casting to the window above Nick's head, "Spencer said he thought the hick was going to call the cops and he couldn't get enough privacy to shoot the little shit. Too many people watching, instead he ran off."

Nick's fist connected with the paling wood of his desk, the sound of wood cracking and bones slamming creating a cacophony of anger.

"FUCK! So he just left it there?! That was two hundred and twelve thousand fucking dollars of perfect coke and that fucking dumbass just lost all of it! I knew I should have sent Taylor. You even knew we should have sent Taylor! I knew that little fuck would do something like the dumbass he is!"

"Its okay, we got it under control. Spencer called it in." Talen's hands were raised in a calming defense.

"And…?" Nick was getting very impatient now, that was an expensive and tricky deal to figure out and he  
did not want to lose it all because of one small car related mistake.

"Conner and Josh got him. They said the kid started rambling about that he told his friends and family. I told them to bring him here, let you shut him up in case he did open his mouth. It'll send a message to the other rednecks about keeping their mouths shut." His associate had a blissful, yet smug, smile coiling upwards.

Nick groaned. Of course they would put it on him to be the intimidating one. He knew that his boys were just being cautious, they couldn't kill people left and right. It would most likely get them in some deep hole of trouble.

Still it would be so much easier to just put a bullet between the southerner's head.

Southerner. His mind trekked to the infection, a giddy hick laughing echoed through his head. He didn't get a chance to reminisce about the memory…or why his stomach hopped up into his chest when a picture of a full-lipped smile presented itself when his main priority was back to the forefront of his mind.

"Get me the prick's file. I want family, friends, where he works and lives, all of it. Give me a whole grocery list of his weaknesses." He was damn good at his job, knowing exactly what buttons to press to get his point across to people.

Sometimes it was just too satisfying to just have someone incoherently blubbering words of mercy literally at his designer leather shoes. The way he could take someone's world and use it against them. It felt absolutely amazing. He felt powerful, in charge, and feared.

It made up three fourths of why he still hadn't bailed on the whole job. That and the money wasn't too bad either.

"Do you want it now or are you still working out with those new labs?" Talen had stridden to a near by table holding various amounts of liquor. He poured himself a shot glass, the liquid watering into it was a background noise to his question.

Nick looked at the numerous amount of papers on his desk and wrinkled his nose. "No, give it to me when he gets here. I'll just skim through it before."

To be frank, he didn't really want to think too much about this whole situation. It wasn't even a situation to begin with and it was a triviality compared to most of the other work he had to finish.

So leaving it to the last minute didn't puncture his consciousness.

That day it scarcely came to his mind; he was riddled in piles and piles of paperwork and research on the meth labs. He had sent a few of his men to check them out and even test the products; they each came back explaining how their visit was.

Nick had been working so hard that by the time Conner, Josh, and Spencer had announced their arrival it had been eight hours.

Talen slapped the manila folder onto his desk, after greeting the three workers. "They have him in the  
storage room getting him 'warmed up' for you." His little titter held no cloak of the maliciousness that dripped underneath.

Nick grunted to show he had heard him. Talen merely looked at the contract he was signing then head out of the room into the storage room.

Nick's pen furiously scribbled his curled signature on the last line. He lazily dropped the pen and leant back into his chair, the chair creaked and squeaked as he shifted.

He stared at the manila folder, then hunched back over the desk with a frustrated sigh.

He opened the folder gently.

His chest started caving in on him, his breath caught in the air around him. He could feel every pulse down his body speeding in time with the lurid thumping in his chest.

This was a mistake. No, this could not be right, something had to be wrong.

No, no no no no. This _can't_ be right.

Underneath the confines of the beige folder was a small picture of Ellis.

It was him resting his back against some cherry red pick up, his mouth in an agape smile coincident with his eyes that were still brilliant with streaks of joy. In front of him was a red headed man, crossing his arms and laughing along with the blonde.

The chair rolled back and hit the wall violently, he wasted no time running around his desk and sprinting to the storage room.

He got to the closed door, nearly about to kick it down. Instead he turned the knob and it slammed off the wall.

"STOP!" He bellowed forcefully and urgently.

Spencer, Conner, and Josh were standing over Ellis, in their hands were blood covered knives and dripping bats. He was on his knees, his hands tied behind his naked back, sweat, blood, and tears running down his whole quivering and lightly twitching body.

His mouth was gagged with a ripped piece of black cloth and he could only let out pitiful muffled whimpers that broke through his metaphoric barrier.

"El..." Nick carefully crouched down in front of him, his hand on Ellis' shoulder keeping him steady. There were no bruises or swelling on his face.

No. Instead there was a gigantic, gruesome, and cleanly cut slice starting from the outer edge of his brow and descending in a 'c' shape to the corner of his mouth.

Christ, what had he done?


	2. Chapter 2

Fan art from my friend! art/My-friend-s-drawing-of-Ellis-from-my-fanfic-336725955?ga_submit=10%3A1352406685

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Nick's eyes started shaking, his breath coming out in heaving pants. He looked with unblinking and large eyes at the air around him. If one had seen him, they would almost think that he could actually see the particles.

His shoulders were shaking violently to his breaths, his men had started to think he was crying, but everyone was so shocked that they just stood still, with their breaths held.

He held the unconscious boy strongly to his shoulder, his hand gripping the back of his head. It was such a tight hold that the single strands of blonde curls had begun to feel like one solid object. The blood seeping through his shirt and down his chest was a distant feeling.

This wasn't some sick, infected and monstrous creature that had done this.

This was his friend, his teammate, and… his secret infatuation that appreciated his physiques from afar.

Nick had done this. It was his entire fault, his idiocy, his selfishness, and his fucking job!

Quickly his eyelids shut vehemently out of the desire to just shut out the intense and bitter honesty. His wrinkles pleating above his brow distressfully.

"Someone g-get a doctor. Please, please get one now." Nick said coolly, only holding on to the boy more solicitously. His voice just reached Spencer who was standing in the farther back.

They were all bolted to the floor by the bewilderment that kept their jaws hanging and eyes unmoving. They heard him, but they had not processed what his command was.

His head barely turned, looking at them more out of the peripheral of his blurry vision.

"I am one second from shooting all of you for what you have done to him…you really do not want me to get any angrier. Go get the doctor. NOW!" His tone was ferocious and an animalistic snarl that would make the strongest of men to curl up in a hole.

Conner and Josh looked at each other, a silent message that agreed on escaping out the door, just to get out of the room that's tension was building up and crushing them slowly.

They shoved past Spencer and scrammed through the exit and started shouting for Doctor Martello.

Once Nick had heard their urgent voices, he inhaled deeply and braced his hand against Ellis' shoulders. Carefully he pulled his limp body away from his own and supported his hanging neck with his free hand, cupping his cheek delicately.

"Talen," His voice had an odd, but demanding, feel of calmness to it, "…come and untie his hands."

His right hand man was there behind Ellis in a moment's flash. He stripped the splintery rope from his wrists, hoping Nick would not notice the welts left by the embedding of it.

He was losing a dangerous amount of blood from his wound. It was so horrifically repugnant that it couldn't be labeled _as_a wound.

It was going to leave Ellis disfigured his whole life. A disgusting reminder of what Nick had done to him. People would probably be terrified of him, his whole life would be one big pity fest, and his chances of finding a girl would slim down to a narrow amount.

He was gorgeous though; Nick was one hundred percent positive that he would still look at Ellis like he was still Ellis. He wouldn't see the scar; he wouldn't see the wrecked life that would most likely dull his eyes. He would just see beautiful, wonderful, delightful Ellis.

If it had been another person, they probably wouldn't have had the sympathy to even get the doctor. They would have died in this room and be another forgotten soul that had his blood spilt in the same place as several others had.

With the gentleness of someone who was not the head of a drug dealing and murdering mafia, he laid the scarring boy on the cold concrete.

Desperately he wished he could just move him to carpeted ground of some sort, but he didn't want to move his hurting body anymore and cause more damage.

The advantage of having him on his back left his eyes lagging from each bruise to bruise, each cut to cut, each piece of Ellis he had damaged or scarred to another piece that left them both dying more and more.

He had multiple gargantuan blossoming purplish green bruises around his ribs. He could faintly make out the wheezes that punctuated his breaths, which meant that a rib might be broken. There were knife caused lacerations all around his body, each leaving a smeared trail of blood. The wounds were like small voices and all of them were just shouting venomous words at Nick that poisoned his mind with and endless amount of guilt.

Nick would have thought that Ellis' body had been merciful and let him pass out with out any pain, but the soft spasms and scrunches in his tense face was a huge tell. The large slit on the right of his face looked so agonizing it made Nick's own face flinch.

"Mr. Bianco, you need to step out of the room and wait with the others. I have to get to work as soon as I can or else he will go into hypovolemic shock," Nick didn't move. Nick could not move. "...Mr. Greco can you escort him out of the room."

He had been so lost in the guilt-watered mind that he had not even registered the Doctor's presence. He couldn't move when he was told though. He couldn't even think accurately. It was all just working on the protective instinct that he has for the boy.

Soon he felt someone's arm slither around his waist, picking him up from the blood-pooled floor and lifting him to his trembling feet.

Talen had pulled him by some miracle out of the room with no protest. The others were in the broad hallway, heads down, backs against the wall. No one spoke or even looked up once they heard the dragged footsteps along the floor, followed by the click of the door shutting.

Abruptly, Nick pushed Talen away making him stumble back clumsily. The leader fell to his knees and arched over the floor, letting the fillings of his stomach spill to the floor in a revolting display.

He could feel the swollen drops of blood trail along the inside of his dress shirt. It tickled across his skin and only made him wretch more. Soon trickles of sweat had gathered and the bloodied drop was lost in his senses.

Spencer and Josh had taken enough of watching their commander dry heave over the large pinkish green puddle of puke. After numerous minutes that lasted much longer than sixty seconds, they had gathered his crumpled form to his feet again that night.

Talen sat back against the wall watching them help the pitiful man. He was disgusted by the way Nick had acted tonight. It was so inadequate as the head of the family to be this weak for someone so simple as a young redneck.

The dark eyed man had concluded that his boss must have known the kid from some time ago. Maybe this would be the catalyst to finally give Talen his opportunity to start planning. After working so many months with the man he had begun to become irritably tired of the fat headed ex-conman.

It took eight months to come up with a plan to kill off the old bastard, Vitale. Eight months of planning and paying people off and being paranoid of everyone and thing and just so much work!

For seven years he had been working for Vitale. Nick had quit his position as Vitale's assistant and hell if he did not jump through that open window of success to get this high up. He had done _everything_for that old coot. He has the scars to prove it too. And is he reimbursed fairly?

No. Instead the fucking geezer left him with zilch, nada, zero, nothing. Oh, but he did leave his entire empire of wealth and power to a self-centered asshole that he had not seen since said asshole had busted his doors open and stormed out of the place like a teenager having a tantrum.

Now he was stuck in the same place he had been a year ago. This time though, this time he would make sure to get on Nick's good graces. Get that special spot on his will and then… _bang_

Holding back the victorious chuckle, Talen waved Josh away to take hold of Nick's other arm with the help of Spencer.

"Come on. Lets take him to his room." Talen whispered, all of them trying to not to acknowledge the gritting sobs that were ripping through the guilty man's grated throat


	3. Chapter 3

Nick sat at his desk, looking blankly at nothing, just a direction toward his desk. It was all nothing and numbness for the past few hours. Numb feelings, nothing in his face, numb hands, nothing to help him feel less...rotten.

The guilt was the only thing that he could feel. That he was able to feel. It was as if every single emotion in the dictionary had been replaced with guilt.

His brain was singed with the image of Ellis' face, the scar splitting his right half sickeningly and the blood dribbling down to the floor creating puddles of the rubicund colored fluid.

Again a new and heart jerking sound ripped out of his chest like he had just been struck with a bullet. Tears filled the palms of his hands as they dug into his sockets with determination not to let them fall on the desk.

The metallic reek of blood had filled his head again. It was his mind playing tricks on him, subconsciously punishing himself for letting this happen. He grappled onto the rim of the metallic wastebasket sitting lifelessly on top of his desk waiting for his stomach bile to fill it.

Through the loud hacks and belches of puking he heard the faint familiar tapping at his door. In between his heaves of vomit he groaned out a 'come in'.

He could tell it was Talen when he noticed the recognizable beat of his heels hitting the floor. It was actually a great relief because he knew Talen would be on his side rather than his more rationally chastising one.

He sounded like he was trying to justify his actions by admitting he was being chastised. As if that would help restore the situation or automatically fix Ellis' mangled face. Selfishly he was punishing himself to defend himself.

He threw up even more.

"Jeez Nick. You've never blown this much chunks even after the whole steam rolling incident with the Palazzos. What's gotten into you?" Talen covered his nose with his sleeve, wafting the air around him to air out the sour smell.

After thumping limply on top of his desk, Nick made a fist in his hair and pulled it to ease the cerebral pain away with physical. It was surprisingly cathartic in an over dramatized way.

Talen's voice rang inside his head like deep bells. He now was grasping onto any opportunity to be distracted. Nick was not afraid to mentally discipline himself. However he could not deal with the fact that he was so selfish that he was using punishment as an excuse to makeup for this whole night.

"Ta-len? Am I a…buh-bad person?" Nick blubbered the question out, covering his mouth as a small amount of excess bile raised to his throat.

Talen resisted the large and tempting urge to roll his eyes. Instead he pulled on his most innocently goody goody face and shook his head sympathetically.

"Not at all! You didn't know about this. If you ask me I think its Spencer's fault I mean, he was the one who had sliced and diced the kid's face."

That was a lie. If the lie had been any bigger he was sure it would have exceeded the size of the whole housing place.

But he wasn't going to tell Nick that it was his hands that gripped the rubber end of the knife and cut through the leathery feel of the hick's face. He wasn't going to mention that he had heard the earsplitting shriek behind the soundproof walls followed by the squishing sound of muscle and tendons ripping.

Besides, Spencer was due for his 'payment' sooner or later. He was a mockery to the whole family.

Nick's head snapped up so fast that it was a blur. His eyes stared widely at Talen with questions swimming through them.

"Spencer? He-he did it?" There was a burning and searing fire that jolted like electricity around his body. He could imagine it on the idiot's face as he damaged _his_Ellis.

He stood up, his mind was peppered in so much fury that his decisions were going to be hasty and probably lead to more problems.

He could not care less.

Furiously he stood up, wedging the dizzy feeling in his head away just to walk fast past Talen who was holding back his fit of amused chortles.

He busted the doors open from his office and walked to the rec room where the boys hang around. Since the room had no door he just sped into the room and located his target.

Once he saw the mossy brunette head lying leisurely on the sofa his fury turned up to full high.

He went inside the kitchen walking past the rec room and the curiously worried eyes.

He came out after a few muttered curses and sounds of objects thrashing around.

He walked toward the couch knife in hand, his eyes still boring at Spencer.

"Get up." Nick ordered.

Spencer slowly and apprehensively stood his eyes glued onto the silvering metal of the knife. He swallowed down the urge to run.

Nick stepped closer, dangerously so.

"Kill all sons of bitches." He whispered under his breath and took another step.

"Mr. Bianco?" The doctor's voice sounded out behind him.

He didn't even realize that his teeth were ground together when he allowed his whole face to relax and his body unstiffens from the rage that had tensed it.

He forgot all about the fueling burn and turned around shoving the butt end of the knife behind him into Spencer's chest for him to take.

"I need to talk to you." The words were stoic, no expression of good news or bad news.

Nick swallowed thickly and nodded. He followed the doctor out of the room and into the hallway once again. He brought all his defenses up abruptly. Hardening his neck so he wouldn't choke on his own sobs. Keeping his eyes wide open, letting the air of the room burn them rather than tears. Getting ready to turn the heartbreaking and soul crushing news into a literal inferno of anger.

"He's going to be okay." The doctor had to get it out of the way or else Nick would have not paid attention to anything he needed to say.

Nick's legs turned into a two logs of jelly as he swung his stance. He balanced an arm on the Doctor's shoulder and held himself steady, letting out a tempo breaking breath.

He was going to be okay. He was not going to die or bleed out. He was going to live.

"Oh God…Thank you." Nick pinched his eyes willing the tears to tear ducts they had come from.

"He's currently staying on your bed in your room. I had to move him to more suitable-"

"I don't care about that, he could have every room in the god damn Boston area, just tell me how…he is." Nick finally found his balance and just lent against the wall his vision stabled on the doctor.

"He lost an amount of blood, but not enough to severely hurt him. He sprained two of his ribs and we stitched up all the cuts around his body…"

Nick waited for the most devastating part.

"…We also had to stitch up his laceration. Nick," He said with a hopeless tone, "It took up sixty stitches for the wound to finally close together. It was hard, very hard, but we got it together before he lost more blood. No doubt it'll be a scar though and probably will be the rest of his life."

Nick nodded like he had a pole taped to the back of his neck. It was evidently forced, along with the beckoning of tears glistening in his eyes.

He had heard it.

The painful truth about Ellis' disfigurement. He wanted to explode about how unfair the world was. How they had spent six months together going through hell and now that when life was going back to normal, Nick had ruined it for the boy.

"Can…Can I see him?" His pitch squeaked before he cleared his throat.

The doctor bit his lip. He looked as if there was more.  
"Nick…By my diagnosis the young man will have a mild case of psychogenic amnesia. When he wakes up, he wont remember most of tonight. Maybe bits and pieces of it, but not enough to create a coherent picture. Im telling you this so if you do stay near him, please be cognizant of his condition and the sensitivity of it." Doctor Martello said.

His lips parted open in an unhidden shock. Ellis might not remember this.

That is actually…

"So that means he won't remember me? I mean he wont remember I was here tonight?" Nick waited for an answer patiently and eagerly.

Doctor Martello shrugged. "Most likely not. If you want to keep this business I would suggest taking advantage of that." With that only left hanging in the air, the doctor said a curt good-bye and left.

As he walked the familiar passageways down to his own bedroom where his sleeping and broken survivor rested he thought of the advice the doctor had given him.

Taking advantage of things was one of his strongest talents.


	4. Chapter 4

He entered the room shivering at the shallow feeling of complete silence. His eyes were still adjusting from the alteration of light to pitch black. He could make out the bed and a faint glow from one of the machines that helped him deal with his breathing.

He could now make out the light fluttering noises of the boy's breath. It was too slow to be calming.

He moved with his eyes on the floor, widening them with enough pressure to make out a few tossed clothes or shoes. He stood on the tips of his toes while keeping his shoulders bent to keep balance. He remembered the doctor's words about his 'sensitive' condition. The words triggered his steps to become sprightlier and his eyes to become narrower.

Using the pads of his fingers, he grazed the bedding that was wrinkled by the body underneath it. They lifted up slightly to skim on the top of the covers rather than indent into it. At a slow pace his fingers danced toward the shape on the bed.

They started to move vertically up in a slanted angle, signaling that their little expedition had led them to an uprising chest. They were now hovering above the covers by mere millimeters. His hand lifted from the covers and was brought back to his side contracting to grab hold of something.

He pulled his feet away from the bed, refocusing on his balance and sight to get to the other side of the room. He reached for the wood rimmed top of the cloth covered chair and lifted it in the air. He followed the exact stepping pattern back to the side of the bed, where Ellis wasn't close to.

Gently he let the chair rest on the floor. As he sat he listened to the unstable breathing of his admired. His breathing served as a background tempo to his thoughts and planning.

His eyebrows tilted forward, confused. How was he going to explain this to him? How was he going to sit on this chair and lie to the disfigured boy?

The mafia father's head tilted toward the ceiling and he exhaled profoundly. His mind flew through the scenarios messily and untidily. Each lie had a hole to it, one that he knew that the mechanic would eventually figure out. The only difference with each hole was the timeframe for how long it would take for Ellis to find it.

Was it his imagination hoodwinking him or was the room darker? He began to twig the pressure on his eyes and realized that they were closed. They opened slowly, and then blinked rapidly to disregard the blurriness.

The cramping of his spine made him wonder why he hadn't had thought of moving somewhere else to fall asleep. He was going to have a locked back all day. He looked around the room, which was now a brilliant yellow from the dawning light, and held onto Ellis' still unconscious figure.

He had not even woken and by the original position Nick had seen him before, he had not woken up since. He licked his lips that were barren. It was still early and hurt Ellis or not he had work to do. He can't afford a day off even for essential reasons like this.

It was painful to say that he had to leave, but to help his mind settle he decided to ask if one of the boys would stay by his side all day. He pushed himself up from the chair and his back clicked and cracked dismissingly.

He came to his decision to appoint Taylor as his watch guard. Taking a lagging look behind him, before stepping out of the room and treading to his office. His heart's pounding was an uneven and noticeable rhythm compared to his steps.

During his whole agenda whether it was speaking to Talen or some clients, his mind would slog back to the hurt boy in his bed. When he had the time he would go over his excuse and the lies that would make Ellis more naïve and unknowingly trusting. He would take that trust, use it against Ellis for his own gain and expect to walk out unscathed.

Good thing it was something he had grown to master over the course of his career. He recollected when he had finally realized that he had gone too far. He had his partner killed because of his 'talent' and that was the day he discovered that he wasn't a good person. He was a killer, a liar, and a user. No exceptions.

He avoided the memory, not needing any more turmoil to fill him. Still he wasn't heartless enough to hurt someone at a time had saved his life countlessly. Ellis saved his ass more than once and he had done the same.

Occasionally he would take a break and visit his room, each time felt like the first time he had seen him scarred and absolutely drenched in blood.

That night he moved himself to the Rec room and slept on the couch. Sleeping on the chair the night before was a glorious mistake. As he laid his head on the armrest he thought of El's family and friends. They all were worried about him, probably all of them were crying or sulking over his disappearance.

He was enthralled by envy for the moment. Imagining who would actually care about his disappearance or even his death. Maybe Ellis would.

He didn't want him to, not after what he had done to him.

The whole 'I told everyone I know' shtick is a bull. He knows that El would be the last person to spread anyone's secrets to anyone else. He may have had a big mouth, but he didn't have a 'big mouth'.

He needs to think of a substantiated excuse to tell the southerner about his family and what he had done to inform them of his vanishing. He now had another mendacious lie to add to the interminable list.

The entire following day he had been at unease. The troublesome thought of Ellis having been unconscious for so long vexed him into fretting all day. He had been so lost the entire day, someone would be speaking to him and he would just blankly nod or forget they would be speaking.

Come lunchtime he had bolted down to the doctor's office and demanded an explanation as to why he hadn't woken. Doctor Martello had calmly explained in short that Ellis' body was just taking its time to heal.

That body somehow always wanted Nick's attention.

The third day that the young comatose man had not woken was worst then the former. He couldn't take the doctor's word on it, even though the Martello had been in the family longer than Nick has, he still had to trust his gut. That's the only way to get by in the business.

He was only a few steps from stepping out the door to check on some of the local competition, going undercover of course, when Taylor had come sprinting to his back.

"Mr. Bianco! Mr. Bianco!" The employee had panted out repeatedly to stress the emergency.

Nick gave him a raised brow with a questioning look.

"The-The kid's awake!"

Nick has been in the middle of deadly hoards of disturbing and predatory animalistic creatures that wanted his flesh and skin for their afternoon meal, but he still cannot recall ever running as fast as he did in that moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Nick's heart had heightened its paced pounding beats the closer he got to the recognizable door, sweat moistening his brow and his Adams apple bobbing with each forced swallow. They had reached the wooden doors that posed to keep up his growing anxiety.

He let down a fat ball of saliva that was difficult to force down through his taught throat. Hesitantly he reached for the knob and turned it with a shaky fist. The door clicked, he realized it was the only sound that had been made from the door and inside it.

It swung on its hinges all the way open. He could see Doctor Martello's white coated back, his arm in front crossed over his chest holding a clipboard while the other wiggled as he scribbled down notes.

What was starting to grate his nerves was the uneasy silence in the room that made it feel heavy. The kid was always talking, _always_. This shouldn't be an acceptation to that fact, he actually expected the kid to be asking questions, snapping at the doctor with pleas for his family, trying to figure out where or what was going on. However the only noise in the room was the scratching of pen on paper.

The doctor's white clad body was blocking Nick from seeing Ellis, so he didn't know for sure if he even was awake. Taking a deep breath as well as a chance, he moved into the room and softly closed the door behind him.

The doctor barely flinched once the door clicked; instead, he said a polite good morning.

Nick couldn't even comprehend that the organ in his chest was pounding for his attention, let alone the doctor saying one word to him. The only thing that he was fully conscious of were the two tear coated baby blues that were widened with shock.

Ellis was staring straight at him, mouth barely open. Now he could see why he couldn't talk, the half of his face that was bandaged explained everything. He wondered if it would be painful for El to speak, if that the one thing that kept him so optimistic over the apocalypse would actually bring him a physical agony. Nick had once again taken and broken something that had only brought others good.

The mafia boss swallowed heavily then took a step forward. He moved just like he did at night, not wanting to startle the hurt boy. Ellis' eyes only got bigger. What he thought to be his imagination of the conman was actually a true entity. Nick was really here.

That one step was the only step Nick took. "Are you done with him?" Nick only gave the doctor his profile, but his sharpened green gaze was still on Ellis.

"Yes, I think I have enough information…" He trailed his out loud thoughts when the realization sunk in, Nick was asking to be in private. "Oh, yes I think I have seen everything that needed to be seen. I will…I'm going to be in my office." He left the room with furrowed brows of curiosity, but respect enough to ignore it.

As if the shutting of the door slapped Nick's cheek, his mind had come back down from its mesmerized state and tore its focus to the ground. El's eyes, however, stayed directly on the forgotten man in front of him. He watched as Nick moved to the side of the bed, the survivor's sight traveled along the foot of the bed sheets. He took a seat from the unmoved chair that he had previously slept in and stared at the wall next to the hick's face.

Ellis's brows drew down and he looked at the hands that played with the edge of the silken covers. He looked back up, his eyes sad.

Not because _of_the cuts or the gigantic scar splitting his face. No, it was the fear that Nick couldn't look at him because of how monstrous he must have looked.

He always tried his best to gain the gambler's attention, always feeling femininely insecure about his looks during the apocalypse. During the time he would hope that the suited man wouldn't see the dirt or smell the boomer puke. He just wanted Nick to like him as strongly as he liked Nick.

Now after two years of not seeing the man, after two years of just craving to look into those devious eyes, laugh at the sardonic tone, he finally gets to see him. Only to have his own face look like it had its own 'Keith' experience.

"What happened to you?" Nick just spoke out of the blue. Ellis didn't answer, instead taking his index finger and tracing it along the beige of the bandage on his right side. Nick bit his lower lip scornfully. He looked around the room, searching for something. Once they settled on the note pad from where he sat, he got up and handed it to the boy.

Ellis looked at Nick, then the notepad, then back at Nick as he sat back down on the chair.

"What I mean is why the fuck did I get an emergency call and find you in a sketchy looking building like…_this_." Nick spat out harshly.

Ellis caught a quick twitch in the survivor's face. He was disgusted at something, most likely being his appearance. It only made him want to curl up under the covers. Instead he sighed and tried not to let his distress show, taking the pen and paper and writing something in reply.

He turned the pad over and unveiled the words. _I don't remember._

It was charmingly messy, but still readable. Nick rolled his eyes to keep up his façade. "You dumbshit. I got a call in two days ago saying something about some dumb kid getting the shit beat out of him in this factory place in downtown Boston. So I got in with my partner and found you like the fucking idiot you are. You are so lucky that cops can break traffic laws. Do you even know who those people were?" His story was working out perfectly. Every little piece was coming together to create one glorious lie. Nick a cop? It was difficult not to just explode into a fret of laughs.

Ellis tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows drawing forward in confusion. Nick could see the questions scraping at the hick's teeth, but unpermitted to leave.

_I don't remember_He showed the first page of the pad once more, before turning it and using the very back of the first one to scrawl his message.

Nick waited, using the time to prepare himself for any expected questions.

_Why did you never keep in touch with me?_

Well that he was not expecting that to come out as the first question. The explanation never even had come to his mind in the past two years. An image of a paper with the same handwriting as the one held in front of his face came to mind. He had never even bothered to look at the paper once it was handed to him. He knew why he didn't keep in touch with him.

For he had believed that if he had even a friend based relationship with the southerner, he would hurt him. Plain and simple, Nick knew that El would end up hurt. Whether it was mentally or physically he didn't know, but during their time together Nick would do something 'Nick-like' and the breathtaking blue plates would fill with tears of some negative emotion that Nick would pry out unintentionally or even sometimes intentionally.

It was inevitable when being involved with the gambler, he just never actually cared for people enough to warn them or even stay away from them. Ellis though, he was an anomaly to Nick. Something he had never in his life had seen before. A young boy who had a sincere smile and a lovable attitude that actually warmed Nick's feelings up from their bitter cold that was originally cast out towards others. Ellis, in some cheesy sort of way, made him feel real. Like his good feelings weren't being used to gain something, but actual feelings of elation.

So no he couldn't answer honestly. He told himself that it was for the good of Ellis. He had done more than enough to Ellis and this was staying _away_from the mechanic.

"Overalls, did you truly think that a guy like me would ever talk to a guy-kid like _you_?" His eyes thinned out into straight lines, trying to hide away the truth.

His heart absolutely sank into the deepest abyss of metaphorical abyss'. The look on the young boy's bandaged face was more painful looking than the actual slice. He looked absolutely unequivocally tragically and heartbreakingly hurt.

It was inevitable.

Ellis wanted to mask his heartrending agony, but it was hard. He knew that Nick would never like a backwater hick like him. He knew it, yet he foolishly gave himself some sort of confidence that maybe he would have something to feel for him.

And here he was still holding on to that hope, even though it had gotten trampled on, he still looked at Nick with some care in his soul. He turned away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

Nick rolled his eyes and scoffed obviously. "I don't have time for this," He muttered deceptively and slapped his lap lightly with both hands, "…so you don't know who those guys were? Because they obviously knew who you were." He stretched his neck out to see Ellis' face, which was turned away.

He began to shake his head when he stopped abruptly and looked at Nick. His facial expression was different, but the underlying soreness was still there.

Just as quick as he spun his sight, it was now pointed down to the pad in his hand. He flipped the page and started writing something else, at a much more frantic pace.

Nick's tongue flicked out and slid across the bottom of his lip nervously.

_Men came and took me. Found coke in car while working. Last thing I remember is them asking me if I told anyone._

Nick nodded slowly. "They must be part of a gang or something. There is a lot of that shit around here." He answered very nonchalantly, leaning back in the chair more.

Ellis' chewed on his lower lip, looking at the notepad once more. His other hand lightly traced his bandage, thinking that it might spark some memories. None came, only more pain.

It was awful, yes, but it wasn't unlivable. He was upset over it, but if anything hurt, it was Nick's remaining words that seemed to choke the air out of him.

Nick's ears pricked up once they heard the same scratchy noise of the pen moving again. El's tongue poked out as he wrote. Once he was done he read over it, imagining an answer from Nick.

_I have no where to go. I don't want to put my family and friends at stake._It was a silent suppliant to see if he would be able to stay under the 'policeman's' watch.

Nick waited until his own mouth had opened to say the words. The decline of giving Ellis any help. He waited until his mouth could form the sounding letters.

It never came.

His fingers rubbed the inside of his eye sockets irritably. "You'll...You have to stay here, but if you leave this room, I swear to god I will have you arrested."


	6. Chapter 6

Nick answered all of Ellis' questions using of course more lies. Ellis would write down a reasonable question and Nick would vocally answer it.

_Where am I?_

"Your in a room underneath the police station for protection."

_Why don't you have your police outfit on?_

"I'm not exactly a cop, more of a investigator of sorts. I don't arrest people. Though my partner is an officer."

_What about my family and friends?_

"We let them know where you are and why your here."

_When can I leave?_

Ellis was weak, very weak.

Every movement he made caused him to whimper lightly. His breaths were short, the long ones he took wheezed cringingly. The tears in his skin are still sensitive and with only an insignificant amount of pressure they would surly open or rip the stitches.

His abdomen was _covered_in bruises. Nick actually questioned how it was possible for him to put any weight on his body.

Then again Ellis was always so tough. Nick honestly wasn't surprised by the lack of complaints. Though the little sounds of pain could paint the picture of what the boy was going through.

He needed time to heal. He needed to stay near Nick. Under the same roof, where easily he could easily find out all about Nick's life. It was a huge risk.

That didn't bother him as much as the fact that Ellis would be _near_Nick. The mob boss didn't trust himself enough to keep away from the susceptibility of the kid. He had been working so hard for so long that he hadn't realized that his libido was absolutely famished.

The scar did nothing to shy away the fact that the kid was right here on his bed, half naked, weak, and totally _vulnerable_.

The memory of touching the boy the night he had been beaten had somehow come to mind. The skin that his fingers just bonded with was stimulating. He could feel the soft sand colored skin underneath his fingers instead of his pants now. He could actually feel the boy's wrists underneath his hands, pinning him to the bed as he just _touched_everything. The fantasy started to overtake his head, and he allowed it to. He would rip away the covers from the rest of the kid's body. Watching as the boy wiggled underneath him in utter helplessness from the feelings and from Nick. The gambler would continue touching all around the southerner's naval and finally-

Something plastic-like hit his shoulder, jolting him away from his thoughts. He hadn't realized his eyes had wondered to the kid's overt chest than his face.

He looked down to the ground next to him to see a black cylindrical pen rolling from the impact of hitting the surface. His eyes reversed to Ellis' impatient looking eyes.

He showed him the pad again. Nick just sighed and stared at his hands that just laid lifelessly on his lap.

"The doctor will be the judge of that, Ace. Don't worry about the gang though, we'll find them before your up on your feet." Nick cleared his throat and stood up from the chair.

Ellis looked at him with sad eyes as he started toward the door. He didn't want Nick to go so soon, he was a huge distraction from the pain.

Nick was getting closer to the door faster than he would have preferred. He made a soft pleading whine in the top of his throat.

Nick stopped at the front of the door. He turned and looked at Ellis with his brows furrowed in perplexity.

Ellis shook his head 'no' quickly and wide eyed like a toddler. He then pointed to the chair with a suppliant expression.

Nick huffed a chuckle and shook his head in disbelief. "I don't think you understood what I said earlier, which is unsurprising since you never seem to understand anything anyone says," He crossed his arms and smirked mockingly.

"You think that I actually want to talk to you, Kid? I didn't keep in touch because I was gladder to be away from your annoying yakking than the fucking zombies. The only reason I'm in here and not some other poor soul is because you, for once in your backwashed life, cant talk." Nick spat that harshly. He couldn't let it look less bitter than it was.

He needed to get Ellis to hate him, and then maybe it would stop all these feelings from stirring. Plus its best for the kid to never think or try to reach Nick ever again. Once he was better, he would be gone.

Ellis though didn't hate Nick. He hated himself for being so talkative and annoying. If he just kept his trap shut then he wouldn't be here. He really didn't blame Nick for not liking him, hell he wouldn't like himself either.

He wanted to smile and just laugh it away. Even when times were bad he would just smile and have an optimistic outlook. He couldn't smile, physically it hurt him and emotionally it numbed him. He looked up at Nick with an expressionless face and nodded.

Nick held their gaze, trying to read the boy. For nearly seventeen years of reading people and working with people, he could not find any signs or subtle messages on the kid. The most readable person in his world was now fully sheathed in an impossible visage.

He became frustrated quickly. He turned back to the door and left without anything else to say, but El's unmanageable looking appearance in the forefront of his head.

A quick note popped to mind when he passed the rec room. He entered through the doorless entrance. His men all stiffened and the voices that had been speaking stopped into silence.

Talen had wondered when his employer would be done speaking with the hick. It lasted longer than it should have and for that he had started getting skeptical thoughts.

"No one goes into my bedroom, but me and the doctor. If I see anyone of you fuckers go into that room or anywhere near the door, I will have not only that person's throat slit, but also all of yours." Talen quietly walked next to Nick, imitating his pose and looking down at the other boys.

Some tilted their heads and some bared their teeth in anger. They were angry and puzzled by their boss' demands.

Talen leaned into Nick's ear and whispered to him. "We got a big message from Fioretti's."

Nick's eyes went agape; he looked at his assistant in shock. "Lets go." He murmured and then led the two of them to his office.

He slumped down in his chair, his fingers rubbing his left temple aggravatingly. "Please tell me something good Tal."

The dark eyed man snickered. "You are never going to believe me," He paused to humorously watch Nick's eager face pull together, "they want us to join with them. Said they heard good things about us and think that our 'negotiation' skills are just what they're looking for. Deal is we get more boys and more places to stay and even more weapons, if we give them sixty percent."

Nick bit his lip to keep his jaw from hanging. The Fioretti family is the most powerful mafia group in all of Las Angeles. They had been in power and under cover for nearly three decades. They were a huge deal and Nick knew that this could be _it_.

He could have all his worries vanished in seconds, just calling them up and approving their deal. It would mean a life filled with money, more gambling, and a relaxed kickback house in Los Angeles. All his rational wagering thoughts screamed to take the deal.

Then he thought that they would waste no time leaving. Probably tomorrow they would pack up and head to California.

Ellis needs more than one day to get better.

"How long do we have to give them an answer?" He said.

Talen's smile erased from his face. He narrowed out his eyes and gave Nick an incredulous scowl.

"They gave us two months, but Nick what's stopping us from saying yes now-" He stopped, his eyes catching Nick's gaze to the door. His teeth started grinding down together. "It's the fucking kid isn't it?" His curse had a hard spit to it, making Nick flinch internally.

"We'll take the deal, only when he's out of here." Nick said with a sternly determined tone. He ignored Talen's scoff and turned his head downwards to the endless amount of papers on his desk.

Talen was fuming. Completely angered by Nick's idiotic reasoning for doing something so idiotic. He wanted to slam the smug face into his desk until his face caved in. He wanted to scream in his boss' face about how _he_would be better than him at being in charge, that he should never had even been presented with the opportunity.

To keep up his façade he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Now he was really glad that it was he that cut up the little shit's face. He thought of how gloriously amending it was, the blood gushing and the skin entirely ripping underneath his hand, to his envy. If Nick cares this much about the hick, then he was damn glad that he had gave Nick so much heartache.

He secretly wanted to tell Nick, let him know that he was too big of an idiot to actually know that his assistant had destroyed the boy's life. That would get his attention and maybe clear up his mind a little.

"You're right sir. I'll call and let them know that we need some time." He seethed out convincingly.

The door rapped shut and the mafia head sighed. Today is just too much.


	7. Chapter 7

FAN ART FROM MY FRIEND OF ELLIS WITH HIS SCARRED FACE! Fan art from my friend! art/My-friend-s-drawing-of-Ellis-from-my-fanfic-336725955?ga_submit=10%3A1352406685

* * *

_This room is suffocating me. Everything is moving. The walls are moving and the floor is moving. Why cant I use my hands? Why cant I stand up and run?_

There was the door right there in front of me. Only a few feet away. The distance was taunting me. So close, but so hard to get to.

The door started opening, but I couldn't tell if the moving of the walls were forcing it open. No.

It's a man. A man with two deep, dark abysses for eyes. He wasn't shaking like everything else in the room. No he was still and focused. His mouth curled upwards into his cheeks in a ebony filled grin.

I started struggling trying to move. This had happened before. I know what's going to happen. Something bad. Something painful. Oh God.

Why cant I move? The man is coming closer! I cant move! Please oh please don't…don't…

He was so close to me, so close. My hair was in front of my eyes, I could taste the sweat dripping off the ends.

I can feel his fingers, brushing my hair out of my face. It was almost nice. Almost Like he wasn't going to hurt me. Almost.

Something cold touched the side of my head. Something sharp and cold.

It started digging and digging into my skin.

I could feel the blood swell from the incision.

I could still taste the salty and brackish sweat now mixed with the metallic taste of blood.

I could smell the man's whiskey laced breath.

I could see the man's dark, dark eyes.

I could hear myself screaming.

It was lunchtime and just as instructed no one had bothered going anywhere near the bedroom door. This was great news to Nick and when he woke to see his men all avoiding the area, some even forcing their eyes to stray away from the bedroom's direction, he nodded his approval. However it didn't stop the fact that it was lunchtime.

Nick's tense fingers rubbed soothing circles just above his temples and under his hairline. He grabbed his smartphone from beside his resting arm and texted Talen.

_Pick up a bowl of soup._

He held it in his hand, not bothering to put the phone back.

_Tomato or Mushroom?_

He thought for a second, scratching and remarking the week's worth of stubble on his chin.

_Tomato._

He placed the phone onto the paperless surface and raised his eyebrows. Apparently his work wasn't as endless as he thought.

He opened a drawer directly to the left of him and pulled out his novel. He lent back on the chair and propped his navy blue clad legs on top of his desk, his heel just missing his phone.

His fingers skimmed the top of the book until they latched to the bookmark and delicately drew it open to the beginning. Shakespeare's _Othello_.

_"Iago: I follow him to serve my turn upon him."_

He snorted in amusement. Iago is such an assclown. He felt bad for Othello, he must trust Iago and the prick was just secretly plotting against him. But Othello is just too dense to even notice anything, probably so caught up in Desdemona's pants.

He had been reading for half an hour when the heels of his assistant had been the ringing of the timer that indicated his 'me' time was up and that he would have to wait till later to find out how Iago will use Othello's relationship for his own advantage.

"Nick." Talen greeted as he lightly dropped the plastic bag on his desk. Nick just nodded, standing up he pulled out the lidded cup of soup and plastic covered spoon.

He moved through the room and entered the hallway, walking the familiar path to his occupied bedroom. Talen only looked at his back as he moved, some amount of anger coursing into his balled up fists.

Nick didn't hassle knocking; he just pushed the door open with out any feeling.

He was so close to dropping the soup in his hands seeing the kid was missing from his bed. Then he heard the scattered sound of the sink in the bathroom running. His chest deflated as he exhaled the held breath.

"Kid, I brought some food…" His words started trailing off when he got a look of the boy. He was standing over the sink with a bloodied hand towel to his cheek.

He wasn't crying, but his eyes were twitching and shiny, wanting to be closed, but the boy forced them open. Standing with a straight back for his ribs must have been agonizing for the kid. He had to give him credit for not just doubling over in pain.

Nick groaned annoyed and rested the cup on the counter. He pulled the towel away, Ellis' downcast eyes unnoticed to him.  
"You dumbshit. How the hell did you rip it?"

"Nighair." The southerner barely moved his mouth, only letting his tongue form his pronunciation.

Nick's brows lined down, then jumped back up once he realized what the kid had said. But they furrowed back in frustration.

"How can a nightmare make you rip your stitches-You know what, never mind. Just sit on the toilet and wait for me to get the doctor." He mumbled and left the bathroom, scrunching his nose as the smell of blood started settling in to his senses.

Nick blocked off the shrill whimpers as the blond sat down on the closed toilet lid.  
"Dumbass kid." He said to himself in a low whisper as he ran down the hall to the doctor's office.

Doctor Martello had simply stitched the numerous amounts of torn stitches back up. In his luck it wasn't a huge loss of blood, only a small puddle's amount.

Nick still had the urge of worry that only made him more skeptical about his feelings for the blonde.

"Mr. Bianco will you please get me something that will help him communicate better?" The doctor asked. Nick didn't nod, the doctor's back to him making it pointless to. He stepped out of the room and tread to the bed. The bloodstains on the ivory pillow made Nick wrinkle his nose. He grabbed the edge of the note pad and the pen along with it.

"Okay Mr. Blake. Its important to tell me how this happened so we could prevent it from happening again. Because this was only a small amount to what _could_actually happen to you." He handed Ellis the note pad and pen.

Ellis looked down at the note pad then as if embarrassed, he peaked a glance at Nick and the Doctor. Nick could tell the kid wanted to hide under his hat if he had it, which was reasonable, because the kid's cheeks were as red as a beet. If Nick was more open with his feelings he would almost call it cute the way his big blue eyes looked up at them as if he were a shy puppy.

He huffed out a breath then started writing.

_I woke myself up screaming from a nightmare._

Nick knew this room was soundproof from both ways, but he didn't know it was _that_sound proof.

Martello's eyes softened in sympathy. The boy's subconscious was permanently traumatized and was probably replaying the memories in his dreams. Going with his feeling, he decided to drop the subject.

"All right, well we have to do something about that."

He turned to Nick with a hard face and stern demeanor. His hand gently curled on the scarred boy's shoulder comfortably. "Mr. Bianco, you need to stay near him at night. That way if you hear him making any sound you can immediately wake him up."

Nick's eyes flashed with fear, but he had a furious expression. "What? No! I'm not going to sleep anywhere near the fucking idiot. Im not his mom to make the scary nightmares go away." He whined angrily.

Ellis' breath filtered through his sore lungs in despair. He understood all that Nick was doing for him and as repayment Nick is forced to be his babysitter. He just wanted to leave and go home, he was sick of watching himself hang onto the infatuation he has with the snarky man. The internal loathing made him forget about the blinding pain in his ribs and face for a short moment.

Doctor Martello sighed tiredly. "Nick you have to or else he could choke on his own blood or even rip all his stitches and bleed out before anyone can get to him." He scolded parent-like.

"Fine I'll do it because I have to, but…" He turned his sharp gaze to Ellis, "…I don't want to." He smoothly trekked out of the bathroom and slammed the door to the bedroom shut.

Ellis couldn't decide what hurt more at this point. His ribs, his face, his whole aching body, or his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

An abysmal pool of anxiety had watered into Nick's chest, making his mind and thoughts suffocate for little room to think or distract themselves. His hands had started moistening and becoming uncomfortably sticky every time the thought of Ellis sprawled out on a surface- the fact that it was a bed was not helping- has bubbled up the forefront of his perception.

He obsessively swallowed the sudden coagulated lumps of spit. Talen had noticed vaguely the passiveness and thought filled expression, but had decided rather than calling it out to instead study it. It brought upon a sick pleasure watching his employer trying hard to mask his unease. Made him look naïve and made Talen look clever.

Nick had a tremendous poker face. It was blank, completely with out any hints of emotion. His eyes never shifted, his body never heated, his sweat never dripped, and his lips never twitched. His eyes had an unidentified wall that made him look almost soulless. They still held the true green, yet no shine or subconscious feeling to them.

These features only applied when he had an unblemished mind. There had been one time in his life that he had lost his incredible poker face. When he had ran off from Vitale and the family all together. He didn't actually like to think of it as running away, that made him seem so out of character. Nick Bianco did not run away, he had seven months of hacking as infected monstrosities to prove that.

He had to straighten out his morals. That was all. The last hit, the last job before he had 'to straighten out his morals' was what crossed the line. It was why Nick never questioned why God had made him struggle severely through the flu. He had it coming, also adding on top of never, not once, doing anything right in his life.

Consequently since the day he decided to 'straighten out his morals' he had a polished head. Until now, now it was rubbed through mud, swamp water, some sewage, and also covered in garbage.

And God did it piss him off. He could not stand the knowledge of knowing all his external barriers were crumpling too fast, and he was too distracted to catch them.

Of course Ellis would be the only person to do this to him. He didn't exactly have amazing aim when Ellis lead the group and his view of the broad crowd of infected individuals had suddenly decreased to the lovely covered back end of the young man.

It wasn't as if Ellis and Nick hadn't slept in the same room before. The safe rooms usually only had one room, if they were lucky two.

This time was different though Ellis was not as…reachable. Mentally or Physically. Plus Rochelle and Coach were always a breath away, so he was forced to keep his hands to himself.

This is where the self-loathing and inner disgust comes in. Ellis was so bright, so damn _happy_. The kid had used it to his advantage though, he used it to gain the trust of the others, as well as keep himself hidden underneath the playful smiles and comical stories. It made Nick envious that he had a positive effect when Ellis was hiding _his_inner feelings. That envy soon turned into a hunger filled curiosity that had bind Nick to the boy.

Now, seeing that he didn't have that protection, seeing his skin stripped bare was so thrilling and stimulating that Nick's own skin had started peeling. And it made him want to punch the reflection mirroring his scowling face through the scotch glass.

He was getting off at the fact Ellis was defenseless. The thought of being a bad person had never really bothered him. He had cheated on his two ex-wives enough times to actually find that being bad had its perks. You could do whatever you wanted and the consequences are not always permanent, well on account for the damage to his eardrums from the women's shrill and shrieking sobs.

He could name the countless pleasures this entire situation could produce for him. Being bad would get him everything he wants. But the consequences would most definitely be permanent, painful, and regretful. Come to think of it he had already been punished with a permanent scar when his guilt had shred his conscious with a hacksaw.

"Everyone's gone and Martello wanted to let you know he's heading out home as well. I think I'm also going to leave too." Talen had only stepped one foot inside of his office. Nick looked at him before twisting his wrist and reading his watch. It read fifteen minutes before midnight.

"Okay, that's fine. You two should go." Nick rubbed his right palm into his right eye socket and dragged it down his cheek tiredly. Talen nodded and left without saying anything else.

He listened intently to the door of the entrance open and close twice on two separate -but short- time frames. He puffed out an exasperated breath and let his head hang between his arms as he thought of what waited for him.

He charted his movements in his head before following through with them. He stood from the chair, holding it to keep from rolling and marking the wall again. He also held it to waste as much time as possible even for the minimal amount that he had just lost. He took his time with each individual step.

Ellis lay in _Nick's_bed staring at the worn out magazine folding over itself next to his tray of empty plates. They were illuminated by the dimly lit lamp on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. His face was resting on his 'bad' side, but it was lightly being held by a slight strain in his neck as to not put too much pressure on it.

He hummed a plumy sigh and turned his neck letting it relax as he stared at the windowless wall across from him. His thoughts had run back to Keith and Dave. It wasn't what he wanted to think about, but what he wanted would only cause the elusive stinging in the tear ducts of his eyes more prominent.

He pondered the thought of Keith and Dave sitting at the garage, probably drunk, laughing about some past foolish plot that had one of the boys getting scathed. Most likely Keith.

A ghost of a smile had started working its way to Ellis' lips when he heard the door open with the familiar quiet squeal of the rusted hinges. His head was turned, so he had to keep still, yet his eyes could be open to pull off his frontage of sleep. He was good at faking this too, as a child always wanting to be carried from the car instead of walking, little Ellis would practice his deceitful slumber and earn a shoulder to rest on all the way to his room. He withheld the urge to smile on condition if Nick could see the corner of his lip.

Nick couldn't tell if the kid was sleeping or not. It was hard to tell when his breathing was unnaturally uneven because of his ribs or the fact he was indeed awake. Going along with his façade of hatred toward the younger, he chose not to call the boy's name to check or keep quiet as he moved toward the edge of the bed.

Ellis swayed his eyelids closed gently, trying to force them to be creaseless instead of scrunched in blatancy.

Nick only casted a quick look to the kid. He looked to be sleeping, but the faint flexing of his jaw told other wise. He wished the stubborn hick was enfolded by the dreamy grasps of sleep. It would have created a more comfortable situation for the two men.

"You're dumber than I remember, Overalls." He commented spitefully.

Ellis wanted to be angry and he wanted to be annoyed, but the muscles in his mouth pulled his lips into a pained tickled smile. Nick followed through with his own resolve and just scowled dirtily at him.

The scarred boy's smile thinned into a hidden frown, his eyes averted to the foot of the bed. Nick's heart churned inside him and he veered his gaze to the wall while he pulled off separate articles of clothing.

Ellis's face heated once he had caught a glance of his naked back. He turned his head barely; the sound of his hair shifting across the pillow announced his embarrassment making Nick turn just in time to faintly see the pink splattered skin on the edge of his cheekbones.

His mouth parted slightly as his eyebrows creased down. Did he just…

Nick shook his head, blaming the subdued light of the room. That would be too surreal for something as the hick blushing for him. He pulled the covers off and slid into the bed, purposely keeping close to the edge.

Ellis' shallow breath hitched once he felt the weight of the bed shift. He turned to Nick's back, which was covered by the white of the duvet. He was only two arms away, yet he felt like he couldn't have been further. What had changed since the apocalypse? Well other than of that time Nick was forced to put up with his bantering. He said it himself, he was happy to have done away from his incessant nattering.

He let out a heartfelt high-pitched whine, like a dog whistle. Nick hadn't caught it, instead he had been squeezing his eyes shut and using typical topics to keep the erotic thoughts away.

Ellis closed his eyes lightly and took a deep breath. Once he opened them he pinpointed the outline of the man's shoulder blade underneath the blankets. His hand gently lifted and with equal delicacy moved to the clothed spot.

Nick had been trying oh so hard to keep away the images and the plain fact that indeed the boy was right next to him, barely clothed, and easily attainable. It was getting very frustrating and using every ounce of his energy, but maybe it would help him sleep.

Once he felt shaking fingers tap his back he had lost it.

"WHAT! What the fuck do you want from me?" He shot his upper body up and tensed his hands in front of him, giving them a demented claw-like look.

Ellis -in the midst of his surprise—repelled so far back that he actually scrambled off the bed in a maelstrom of blankets and bandage-covered appendages. His spine thud against the carpet once he fell, which did not offer any protection from the hard wood against his back.

Nick knew that even before the boy yelped in pain he had messed up. He frantically jumbled out of the bed and thumped his feet right below Ellis' own feet. Ellis had curled up on his left side, letting out pained sobs with agonized whimpers. He gnawed his lip to keep his mouth from opening too wide and ripping his stitches yet again.

"Shit shit shit shit. Ellis I-I didn't…" He kneeled down next to him, his hands hovering above the kid.  
He did not want to touch him. For Ellis' sake he can't touch him.

He slugged the thick ball of saliva down loudly. Ellis whines only served the purpose of creating a delicate ambiance. Tantalizingly so, he laid his ring and middle finger's pads on the slightly trembling boy's shoulder.

The first reaction would have been for Ellis to jump. However to Nick's disbelief the boy's cries had gotten more quiet once he felt any sort of contact. Then he felt the violent shudders relax into soft shivers. His hand cooperatively sprawled out on the rest of his shoulder, again the touch only softening his tense body.

As Ellis became lenient, Nick's whole body buzzed with a surge of want. The skin was like an aphrodisiac to him, and it was making him go mad. His hand started sliding down the boy's arms slowly moving at a measured pace. His other hand was positioned on the many protruding nubs of his spine. He let his fingers dip in and out of them. The touch was electrifying absolutely intense and so inexpressible that it was clouding his mind.

He let out a longing groan, his jaw slacking so much that he had drool starting to trail.

Green eyes widened and he immediately pushed away from the blonde. Then he noticed the even rise of his shoulders and chest followed by the sleep-dampened breaths that came out in long and slow exhales.

He thanked the high heavens the kid fell asleep so easily. The motherly touches must have soothed him into a fitful rest. Nick had to admit to himself and definitely never out loud, but it was adorable. He sighed, pushing the sudden feeling that his boxers hugged his crotch a little too tightly to another part of his mind. He knew he couldn't leave the kid on the ground, so he eased his sleepy body up into the bed.

It didn't take much provocation; he just shook the boy into a half awake and half asleep state and led him into the bed again. Once his head hit the pillow the silent snores had started up again. Nick decided that his 'problem' needed to be dealt with before he could head to bed.

He looked at Ellis' sleeping form for a second, letting it linger a smidge longer then he walked to the bathroom. His boxers stressed against his 'problem' painfully.

He shut the door behind him and flipped the lights on. He stripped his boxers off hastily and logically decided that it would be easier to do it in the shower. If the boy woke up he would hear the shower running and nothing more. Plus cleaning up would be easier.

He forced the showerhead backward so that the water wouldn't pellet him. His hand smoothed out over his hard length, gripping it tauntingly then stroking slowly. His other hand was through the raining water and balancing him on the tiles.

His head tipped back and he let out a silent gasp. The images overwhelming his mind and pushing his hand faster and faster with each picture.

_Ellis stripping in front of him. Every inch of beautiful skin showing and all of it his to hold and touch. Ellis touching Nick's face. His body. His chest. His dick._

That one made him shudder with a wave of goose bumps following even though his whole body was sweltering. His hand pulled the skin back and forth feeling for the need of release.

_Ellis spreading his legs for Nick, looking at him with half lidded eyes, bighting his lip. As he speaks his name like a prayer over and over again._

Nick's hand slid over his weeping slit, he let out a guttural moan. He pulled his hand back and thought of his model. He recapped the pleasurable thrill that just fused into his skin as he touched the boy.

His eyelids opened in a snap as he breathed in abruptly and came into his palm. He let out hefty breaths of air and bucked into his hand lazily. He ran his clean hand through his hair tiredly.

He unquestionably is not going to be able to keep his hands to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

Nick hadn't bothered with rummaging through the dark to find a new pair of boxers. His OCD will just have to wait until morning to start itching him about his hygiene.

The kid was still sleeping, only now he was splayed out on his back, one arm over his eyes so his hand lightly touched the bandage of his stitches. The other hand rested on his chest, over his heart, the hand rising and falling in an awkward rhythm in cadence with his chest.

Nick slipped into the snug cavity of the blankets. The shifting in the bed and shrill creaking of the springs had only jostled the boy to remove his eye-covering arm, but the other stayed in place.

The thought that Ellis' hand was there to check subconsciously if his heart was still beating had crossed him. After all the brokenhearted looks he had been earning from the scarred blonde he wouldn't be shocked if the organ had just gave out entirely.

Nick snorted, he was becoming such a sap. He began to roll onto his side as to not have to face the kid, but stopped mid turn. The small whimpering sounds that the kid had been making before had sounded through the room.

They were hushed, resembling as if he was being forced to keep quiet. They started coming out in shaky gripes, and he could feel the tensing fabric beneath his back of the sheets being gripped. He froze in his uncomfortable position and waited.

The kicking underneath the blankets had started slowly, small spasms. Then as the whines became more desperate so had his kicking. His legs started flailing, throwing the blanket into the air and just jolting it back up before it could cover him again.

Nick hastily turned and reluctantly started pinning his shoulders down. The boy's eyes were open, but he was still dreaming. They looked above Nick's head, the pupils reflecting off the moonlight like a strobe light as it moved from place to place. Tears had started matting the golden curls on the side of his head together and his lips had started to form apart.

Nick, in his rush, started shaking Ellis helplessly.

"Ellis! Ellis! Wake up! Wake the fuck up!" The volume of his voice didn't seem to matter.

He shook him more violently, but the kid's moans had started becoming more urgent and his mouth had started opening more and more. The pain of his injury had been anchoring him from screaming fully. It wouldn't last long.

Finally out of pure fear he pushed his knees onto Ellis' lap keeping his jerking legs down to the bed and restraining his shoulders as well. Then his head went down so fast that it became one big blur.

And just like in the fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty always woke up once the Prince had kissed her.

Ellis' breathing shuddered in Nick's mouth as he sobbed and kissed Nick back at the same time with an intense amount of force. It made him look hysteric, just hungrily nipping and pursing his lips to diet the deprivation while at the same time fat drops of tears and high pitched grunts escaping him.

Nick hadn't had his eyes open long enough to tell if the boy had his open the whole time. He could only guess that he did in fact keep his eyes open. Probably thinking this was just a dream and needing ocular proof.

Along with tangible proof apparently so, which was why he now started feeling a quivering hand make its trail down his stubbly cheek.

Then through the bawls and through the waterworks, Nick picked out the radiating, absolutely illuminating smile that made its own source of light for the older man to see. He never believed that a smile could be contagious, thinking only as sicknesses could be, thanks to the apocalypse.

Then he noticed that it was excoriatingly painful if he did not smile with the lovable hick. He even chuckled at how annoyingly contagious _anything_the boy did could make him beam.

"Fucking hell kid. It was like being strangled by a smoker all over again." Nick embarrassedly pushed off of the slightly trembling boy and laid on his back, his arms being a second pillow for his head.

He turned his head away, knowing that if he looked back at Ellis he would be wearing that same apologetic puppy dog face, but his body rested still on his back.

Ellis' breathing had become a stiff and forced wheeze of air, eventually grading down to his usual uneven inhale exhale. He heard the bed covers shift across the mattress and suddenly the weight on his side was becoming heavier.

Then there was a damp and sleepy head on top of his chest, an equally damp arm resting just above his belly button. Nick looked down to be greeted with the sight of the boy's blonde locks. His mouth drew open to decry the thought of 'cuddling', but when he hear the calmed sigh and caught the small whitish pink of the bandage he closed it.

"I hate you so much. Look at what you make me do." His words were empty, just there to fill in for his character. When he felt angelic lips kiss his chest, he knew Ellis knew the true meaning of his message more than he did.

The nightmares were kept away the rest of the night. Ellis had dreamt of nothing, but Nick had dreamt of everything.

Something pulled his body deeper into a heat-stemming object. It felt like a pair of tendrils pinning his arms to his sides and his forearms to his chest. They pulled him along the mattress toward the large figure, they were squeezing him tighter.

After the same dull ache pulsed in his chest he had given up on shutting the outside off. Two sleep packed eyes slowly opened, then accelerating blinks followed to shy the fatigue away. Though it wasn't the morning blur making his vision swirls of peach and black, it was the bare chest embracing his face.

He braced his hands on the chest as delicately as he could, and then pushed back against the containing arms. They did little to protest and they had willingly become flaccid to give him more space to breath.

He didn't want to move too far from the large body lying beside him. He didn't want to ever leave the protection that any part of this body held for him. He snuggled his head closer to the man's shoulder, his bandaged face feathering the skin above Nick's breastbone.

He heard the sweet hum move in undulated vibrations. Nick's hand had found the back of his head while the other was flat against his back, similar to the ministrations Nick had done to him the night before.

The soft blue hues had now tilted upwards, expecting to see the man's jaw, instead he was pulled into a verdant gaze that had some hidden glow to give the simple stare more feeling. Ellis had never felt a more wonderful feeling in his young life.

He wanted to say so much, talk about the feelings he was feeling and praise the man who gave him the little miracles. He wanted to speak to him so badly, tell him everything that was on his mind.

Instead his scar had cornered him to stay silent or bleed. So he showed his feelings by pressing his lips chastely to the gambler's own, slowly, lingeringly, and sweetly.

Nick felt something fuss in his chest when the good morning kiss had ended. He looked down at the same eyes that he had woken up to and frowned, the expression in them clear as day, but wrong as anything.

They held a naïve trust for Nick. They looked up at him eager to feed off of more of his lies and lighten at more of his dishonesty. Then his eyes slid to the pink tinged bandage and his Adam's apple bobbed anxiously.

Ellis' eyebrows drew down curiously upset. Nick didn't need to hear his voice to know the question decipherable on his face.

"I have to go to work." Nick had said his walls coming up so that his apprehension was hidden more easily, still he couldn't help the eschewing of his pupils, looking to a miniscule dot at the edge of the bed.

Ellis shimmied out of his longing hold and turned on his other side to face the door, using the palm on his temple to elevate his head several centimeters above the pillow. He knew that Nick would leave. It didn't mean he would have to watch it.

Nick licked his lips and started to motion out of bed. During the time he was dressing he would sneak peaks at the kid. The whole time though he had been on the same position facing the door, his fingers dancing along his elbow, with his eyes swaying with them.

He unplugged his phone to find that he had received an alarming amount of messages from Talen.

He clicked the first one, first looking over his shoulder at the resting boy.

'_The Fioretti's said they need to talk to you! Come to your office ASAP!_'

Not bothering with the other texts, he pushed his phone into his pocket, letting it sink with no outlining of it on the outside of his pants. He made it to the door, ignoring the feeling of being watched as he walked casually. He turned back with the door open behind him, finally acknowledging the kid's attention on him.

"I'll be back for lunch later." In the midst of his sentence, El had turned his back on him, now facing the windowless wall again. He wasn't angry; he just couldn't watch Nick leave. Even though it was an irrational thought of him never coming back, it still had raised some hairs on his neck.

Nick blinked, then closed the door behind him and walked toward the office. He was hoping Talen had stalled the family long enough to buy some time.

Talen had in fact not stalled them, only informing them of his boss' absence. He didn't go far to make an excuse, using something as mundane as an appointment with a fellow dealer.

He wished that he could have just told them 'No, I'm sorry, my boss is not in right now because he's sleeping in like a lazy pig.' Such inadequacy for a fucking mafia lord.

Once he had hung up he had actually begun to realize he was in his employer's office alone. He never had been alone in here, it was a thrilling feeling though.

He looked at the closed door and smirked, then he looked back at the desk.

Slowly he eased himself into the Head's chair, his feet propping up on the desk, scuffing the wood harshly and his hands folded on his thighs.

He needed to get used to the feeling of the chair, make sure it would be the right one for his coming of power. He made an uninterested puckering noise with his lips, finding it not as extravagant as he had hoped.

He raised a light brown eyebrow at the two drawers and his grin broadened.

The assistant pulled the first one open and wrinkled his nose. Nothing interesting. A few papers, pens, some files that held little importance. He moved to the next one, only finding a book by Shakespeare. He snorted. This said a lot about Nick's character.

Out of boredom he leafed through the pages until he reached the bookmark. Then his eyes widened greatly.

The bookmark was the file picture of the hick. It looked cut around the borders like there was more to the picture, but it only showed the happy faced idiot.

Now _this_ knowledge could come to some use later.


	10. Chapter 10

The floorboards started thumping on the other side of the door. Talen used his small time window to start out from the chair and stand poised next to the waiting phone on the desk.

Nick casually stepped inside, regarding his assistant obliviously and then moving to the phone. To be expected, Talen had started informing him on the news with out a reminder.

"The Fioretti's father, Mac, had called and said that he needs to speak to you on some important matters due to the whole deal. He said something about having someone come and visit our men and our trade relationships, but not much else on it." He looked at Nick up and down, realizing something different about his boss.

He looked eagerly excited for something. It brought the question of where he had been earlier. He usually never left the undisclosed housing unless it had to do with a job and those were not exactly parades of fun.

He didn't vocally ask though. It would not do any good to his buried exterior and motives.

Nick sighed loudly through his nose, his face dramatically pulling a peeved look. He picked the phone from the receiver and pushed the redial button.

"How long have they been waiting?" He asked, one hand carrying the phone next to his ear, the other lugging out his chair.

"Ten or fifteen minutes. Told them you had a meeting with one of our suppliers." His left hand crossed his chest and held his right elbow, looking at his fingers apathetically.

The other line picked up and he asked to be transferred right to the head.

_"What."_Mac had a very snappy tone. Nick noted to be extra complying, definitely not wanting to get on this guy's bad side.

"Hi, Mac. This is Nick Bianco from the Vitale's in Boston." He made sure to keep his voice light, yet professionally stable.

_"I am a very busy man, Dick. I hope that this morning's unpunctuality will not happen again." _

Nick swallowed the regret loudly. Going with his gut feeling, he decided to leave out the correction of his name.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry about that. I just had to take care of some things around the family, I think you understand."

There was some static shuffling on the other line then he heard Mac gulp down a drink followed by the glass clinking on a surface.

_"I am not patient either, so try your best to manage your time wisely. Next Friday I plan to send one of my trusted men to come and assess your trade relationships as well as how you work on an average day. He will be watching how you make deals and what you do under certain situations. He will be there until he thinks that your family is adequate enough to work under us. If you don't seem fit for anything he sees then you will never communicate with us again and your opportunity of having a stronger empire will disappear. Is that clear Rick?"_

Nick gave a raised eyebrow look to Talen and hesitated for only a second.

"Yes sir, next Friday is great and I promise you won't be dissapointed."

_"I better not be Mick."_

He heard the click of the other line and took it as his cue to hang up himself. He gave an exasperated look to his assistant and rubbed his face tiredly.

"We're going to be working under this ass? Damn it, if it weren't for the money." He laughed humorously and shook his head.

Talen also smiled, pleased that Nick had worked with Mac submissively. _One_good thing he has done so far.

Nick looked at his watch and frowned, it was still around ten in the morning so lunch was two hours away.

He clapped his hands to the desk and looked up expectantly at Talen with an uncharacteristic smile to his features.

"Give me something Tal."

His associate upraised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm, but did exactly as told.

"We need to set up some travel arrangements for some of the shipment to the Maryland sellers. They refused to do it themselves and said that they wanted you to do it for them. Lazy bastards if you tell me."

Nick snorted a laugh, agreeing with his friend. He sighed and reached for the phone again, preparing for a never ending and hopelessly boring morning.

During the course of the _longest_two hours of his life, Nick obsessively looked at his watch. He counted the minutes until he could go on a self-appointed lunch break.

At eleven fifty five he sat at his desk and waited for Talen to grab Ellis' and his lunch. This time he had asked for a steak salad and for the kid a BLT sandwich.

He tapped his finger beneath his desk peevishly and stared at his door waiting for the familiar knocks of Talen's feet on the hardwood. He never had noticed how suffocating his office can be and he was raring to leave.

The Mafia head heard his cue to jolt up from his seat and make a beeline to the door, surprising his assistant by grabbing the plastic bag in his hand with a curt nod and wading to his room with out another question, but a colossal beam on his face.

Nick composed himself with a few practice tensing and relaxing of his facial muscles to hide his excitement. He took a few deep breaths to clear his pleasantly fuzzy head and finally with no uncertainty, opened the door.

The boy was on his knees at the very top corner of his bed, lifting the mattress up and fumbling with something, but as soon as the door shut he turned around startled and the springs of the mattress made a quick creak as the fell back onto their wooden shell. Thankfully the pain from the previous day was missing due to the pills he had found in the bathroom's cabinet.

The first out of place thing on the hick's face was the missing bandage. Though the cut was clean and not bleeding, it was thin and the cross ridges that show the vivid stitching evinced the professionalism in the work, but also the terrifying amount of aid that had to give away how truly grave the injury was.

The next was that Ellis looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Actually scratch that, to Nick he more accurately described the picture of a puppy, with eyes too big for it's adorable face, getting caught digging through a trashcan. He could even imagine one ear turned inside out, while the other flopped lazily and even something as cute like an oversized bone in his mouth.

He restrained the chuckle from the comical image and focused on putting on a stern and hard exterior. He pointed his eyes and displayed his grated teeth and to add effect he dropped the bag of food rather roughly at his feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nick said rudely and unkindly.

The blonde's eyes broadened, the tone had created a flash of hurt, but it soon was covered by fear. He shook his head intently and rapidly.

"What the fuck are you hiding, Overalls?" Nick stopped looking at him, instead he moved toward the corner of the bed, which was being blocked by the southerner's sweatpants and tee shirt covered body.

Using the four inches the gambler had on the kid, he stood intimidatingly in front of him.

"Ellis, _Move._" He demanded.

Ellis' light brown eyebrows furrowed determinedly and he shook his head in fortitude to refuse, this time with more confidence. It grated on Nick's nerves.

Nick's throat gave a small rumble of anger and both of them could feel the tension thickening and the older man's patience thinning.

"Don't _make_me move you." He said with a growling warning to only make Ellis more reluctant to opposing.

This final time, Ellis barely had a chance to shake his head when his collar was being twisted into an angry fist and he was being pulled away from his defense. He went to grab Nick's shirt, but failed and as he was being roughly handled to the side, his feet became intertwined and he tripped falling ungracefully on his rump.

He looked up at the other with an internal pain in his eyes that Nick had seen earlier, he turned his head away and bent down to the corner of the mattress, lifting it up and disregarding the scarcely audible whimpers that sounded like words of protest trying to uselessly come out from the younger one.

He reached in and filed out what felt like to be a thin stack of papers. He pulled them out and he couldn't stop his jaw from falling.

They were ripped out pages from the notepad and with the cheap pen there were unbelievably beautiful sketches of people. People that he knew.

The very first was Spencer, a perfect and accurately shaded picture of the twenty six year old. It was expertly made, as if someone had taken a photo and traced it with a pen. It gave off a perfect three dimensional illusion with the way it was made. The next had been Josh, just as smoothly outlined and detailed as Spencer's. Skilled, proficient, and astonishing. He was shocked to say the least that in such a small amount of time, this incredible boy had made these with the precision of Leonardo Da Vinci.

After seeing Taylor's astounding picture he had pulled to the next page, his heart had essentially fluttered to his throat and there was a delightful stirring in its place in his chest. His breath had actually been taken from his lungs.

It was a photo worthy picture of himself, sleeping.

The way he looked though was so unfamiliar and so unreal that he had to question who he was looking at before it had hit him that it really was himself.

The way Ellis had drawn him he looked impossibly peaceful. He was seeing the Nick that Ellis saw and he didn't know what to think of it. He just knew that the stirring in his chest had turned into brutal swirls and twirls.

The next was of him smiling, not _smirking_, but smiling genuinely. He doesn't remember smiling as honestly as this picture was clearly presenting. It was amazingly well detailed, not a single wrinkle, shade, or hair out of place. He was even wearing the suit he had during the apocalypse, the folds of the clothing even real to his eye.

There were three more just of Nick, all of them with that _genuine_look to his features.

Then his head snapped up at a closing realization and he turned to Ellis with a stunned look on his face, but the oceanic eyes were staring ashamedly at the floor.

Ellis did not and refused to see what everyone else saw in Nick.

All Ellis could see and all Ellis chose to see was nothing less than perfection.

He felt his heart give one lasting throb, and an unneeded lump had clogged up his throat. Turning back to the papers his eyebrows lined down in interest.

The last paper was wrinkled underneath his fingertips; he could make out the messy and cracked creases and faint tears in the paper. He pulled it to the front of the pile and his confusion only grew.

It was a picture of a man's face, he could _barely_make out the silhouette of a head and ears underneath the hard and permanent black scribbles of the pen, evidence that its creator was fazed by the sketch. He tried to pinpoint details, it didn't look like him or any of the other pictures of his men.

He could feel a radiating familiarity of it though.

It sent an unnerving feeling to him and almost started to creep him out. He filed it to the back of the pile again and lightly laid the papers on the desk.

Ellis was still on the floor, his legs crossed and his head digging into the rough palms of his hands, his right hand wary of his wound.

He lifted his head when a warm and caring hand was laid on his shoulder. Blue met green in an emotional filled moment that was expressed with only silence.

Nick sat on the floor across from him and to Ellis, he smiled just like the way he does in his mind, holding no lies and offering Ellis the most wonderful of gifts that nothing can compare with.

Nick used his hand to yank Ellis into an embrace, their foreheads leaning on each other.

Both of their eyes closed.

They could hear the three words playing around in the air around them, just waiting to be snatched by either of them.


	11. Chapter 11

Warning. lots of gay fucking ahead.

* * *

Nick and Ellis ate on the side of the bed, in a welcomed silence that neither man felt compelled to break. During this time the older man started noticing small quirks that Ellis tended to have that he had never noticed during the apocalypse. It was because of these quirks that Nick had found himself in a deep and irritating situation.

Ellis ate messily, and Nick wasn't surprised. He has successfully stained _Nick's_shirt that he was borrowing with a rainbow of sauces from his sandwich. Nick kept a mental note to wash it over three times every night. Now because of his childish muddled eating habits, he had a grating dribble of mustard on the very corner of his mouth. His greying green eyes lever left that one spot and because of that little devilish and tempting splotch he had spent the last minute failing to pick up a piece of steak with his fork.

Nick, being a neat freak, could actually deal with the sloppy eating.

This thing really got on his nerves, and not the nerves that alert him to be annoyed either. This was a whole bundle of nerves that was set for the opposite reasons, mind you.

Every time Ellis eats, swallows, or chews a nice satisfying bight, he makes a sound that would make Nick's knees buckle. A noise that reaches Nick's ears and crotch. He actually _moans_.

Not a short and light one either. It's always a long, breathy, meaningful, and arousing moan. How he never seemed to notice, Nick will probably never know. He just holds it and drawls it out and as he slowly pulls his food away from his mouth, Nick cant help but imagine himself being drawn out of his swollen lips.

Nick doesn't bother finishing the rest of his salad. His appetite is hungering for something else.

Ellis finished his last bight, turning to Nick with a large grin, his scar extending deeper into his face, and the small glop of the yellow condiment still lingering at the corner of his lip.

Nick's mouth coiled upwards. "You got something there, Overalls." He pointed vaguely at his own lip.

Ellis took the back of his hand and rubbed the wrong side of his lip roughly.

Nick held his wrist and shook his head. "No you idiot," He whispered.

He leaned into his face, their lips a breath apart, their eyes looking in depth into one another. Nick's lids covered his eyeballs, looking down to Ellis' lips. The contrasting oceanic blue questioned mentally what the other was doing.

Then very delicately he let his tongue slide out and lick the spot, letting it slip quickly into the crevice of the hick's lips, and slide against the edge of his teeth.

Then as quickly as his tongue flicked out, it retracted back into his own mouth, leaving the blonde with a hanging jaw and wide eyes.

"There. I think I got it."

And comfortably Ellis spoke back. "Ni-Nick…"

The mafia boss didn't know what came over him, but something about the way he had said his name as innocently as he did drove Nick to the wall. It was a delicious paradox to Nick's personality and it only made the boy more irresistible. There's a Ying for every Yang.

He seized Ellis' neck and pulled him into a kiss again, moving his lips against his in a fiddling and heated motion.

This time however Ellis forced his tongue against Nick's lips. Flicking it around his lips and dipping inside to reach his own slimy muscle.

He opened and their tongues slid and stroked each other, lathering their saliva on the appendages. Nick loved how even after a sandwich, Ellis still had a sweet sugary taste to him. It made him smile, of course _Ellis_would taste sweet.

It made him more ravenous and he pushed Ellis to the bed, successfully pinning his arms against the bed spread, kneading his hand into the boy's wrist and twining their fingers together.

Nick's knee rubbed against Ellis' clothed arousal in circles. He grinned when the boy bashfully tried shutting his legs, but failed with Nick's knee now causing him to go weak.

It didn't take long for Nick to start rutting against the blonde's thigh. He vigorously bucked his hips and rubbed it against his lover as he grunted through his clenched teeth.

Ellis turned his head to the side, a pained expression canvasing his face. He gasped in uneven breaths and they fueled Nick on to keep up with his driving.

Finally, Ellis gave into the kneading knee and spread his legs openly for Nick, his neck tilting back. The older bobbed his head as he gave it lapping kisses and sucks. The younger's mouth fell open, the agonized pleasure in his face unfaltering.

Nick gave an 'mmm' while he stripped Ellis of his shirt and pants, his hands unable to stop from rubbing his taut muscles and pecks. His index and middle fingers rubbed in cadence at his nipples, making sure to give attention to each one.

Ellis curved his back, his hips almost touching Nick's stomach. He gave a whine and spread his legs only even more.

Nick sat up and pulled his dress shirt up, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off.

"You have no idea how annoying you are when you eat."

Ellis' chest flushed and he rolled his hips in impatience.

Nick chuckled, using his arms to balance him and bending down, his shoulder blades pushing up through his skin, to deliver a kiss. The thin pair nipped at the younger's plump bottom lip, taking it into his mouth and gently sucking.

A feeling of release in its self from just pulling his boxer briefs off made him groan out loud. He then did the same service of Ellis, brushing his length just to feel him squirm underneath his touch.

Ellis' head once again turned to the side as his legs only spread wider. Nick stood up from the bed and left to the bathroom.

The southerner had just then noticed how obviously ridiculous he must look, but his panting breaths took too much oxygen for him to actually care.

His eyes fluttered shut and slowly his hand started to drift down to his leaking self.

His trailed touch left goose bumps and a pleasing thrill. He heard Nick come back, but even then his eyes stayed closed.

Nick wouldn't have it. He loved the kid's eyes. They were a huge tell for everything that he feels underneath and thinks, right now he wants to see everything going through his little mind.

To be the conniving person he is, he feathered his finger down Ellis' shaft.

Ellis' eyes cracked open and his back hooked into a perfect arch, he let out a choked moan.

Nick snickered underneath his breath and he leaned over Ellis once again, predatorily and sexually. He used one hand to hold Ellis' left half of his face and the other drifted to his entrance.

Slowly and tenderly he slipped his finger inside of him, just as expected Ellis started writhing and whining.

So he stuck in another and the whining turned into pleasured whimpers. Soon he started shaking underneath Nick, making him even harder than he already was.

For the third time Ellis' head rolled to the side, this time showing his mangled side of his face, his glazed eyes lidded and looking at the foot of the bed.

"…So beautiful…" He had just thought it, but couldn't keep himself from whispering it.

The younger turned and looked at Nick with sincere eyes. He moved up and laid a heartfelt kiss on his lips.

He pulled his fingers out and grabbed the lube from the other side of the boy. The cold liquid coated his hands and he slicked himself from the base to the tip. His mouth watered slightly at the sight of Ellis' chest heaving and legs spread.

He lent down and fisted the blankets as he slowly managed to make his approach _inside_the boy. The desirable lips under him shuddered a gasp.

Their hearts both beat in quick paces, and cold chills ran through their warm bodies.

He slid in deeper, giving the younger some time to get used to the feeling. Finally when he was delved inside as deep as he could be, he pulled back out.

Then in one rough and frantic move he thrusted with enough force to make both of them cry out. Ellis bit his lip painfully to keep from opening his mouth too wide.

He repeated this action, the velvety walls surrounding him made it impossible to focus on how fast and how deep he was thrusting.

He felt his tip stab into something and by the loud moan that had started turning into eager mewls, he could guess it was the kid's prostate.

He mirrored the move again, hitting the spot and jolting an electric shock through Ellis' bundle of nerves. It was heaven.

Nick took the southerner's shaft and stroked the skin harshly, egging him to reach his edge before he does.

He timed his caresses to the hits of his prostate and after a few more followed by an abrupt intake of breath, he came into Nick's hand.

The walls that enveloped him tightened blissfully around his own length, it vibrated through his body and he also released inside. He lazily bucked in and out, riding out his orgasm.

Their breathing had become erratic, but near the end it had slowed to a cool stride.

They couldn't tell who groaned as he pulled out. The mafia head rolled next to his lover and closed his eyes, a idyllic state of mind in a hard morning's work.

"Was _that_what I was missing all that time in those safe houses?" They both laughed tiredly.

Nick had lain there next to Ellis with no clue of what to do next. He looked at his silver reflecting watch and scoffed. He should have been out of there ten minutes ago, Talen must have been in distraught from how long he has been gone. Usually he is never late back from lunch.

Talen wasn't exactly distraught, but more so pondering. He sat in the rec room wondering why he hadn't heard from his employer.

He stared at the opening for the rec room timing how long it would be until Nick would stride inside, a task or something pointless pointed to the men.

He saw an approaching shadow and straightened his back from his seat, only to relax when he saw Doctor Martello come in Nick's place.

He pursed his lips and gave the Doctor a speculating look.

"Doctor?" The middle aged man was in the middle of microwaving his plate of food. He turned to Talen with a neutral expression.

To be truthful, Martello had never been fond of Talen. He had always been a bad apple to Vitale and he had watched him lie under his old employer's nose plenty of times. Sometimes trivial things like forgetting to give an order under Vitale's name.

Sometimes extremely important things like _accidentally_killing a partner. When he himself pulled the bullets out of numerous men, they always were in the same place.

They pierce the very center of the men's throat, leaving them to die painfully and slowly of either choking on their own blood or bleeding out all while in excruciating agony. If they were lucky their own neck bones pierced through their arteries and they would bleed out faster.

It wasn't one or two times that was where the bullet punctured. It was around ten to fifteen cases.

"Yes." He said, keeping the seething tone away.

"How is that boy you recently treated?" Talen played with a button on his faded brown jacket.

Martello hesitated, unsure of why Talen would care to know.

"Fine." The one-word answers were starting to inflame the assistant.

"You didn't send him back right? He would probably call the cops on use, right?"

"No, he's staying here."

Talen's eyebrow cocked up, but he buried his revelation and interest well.

"Poor kid. I kind of wish that he had someone to help him out while he's here. You know? I mean someone that young must be having a hard time not being home."

The doctor had begun to lose interest of what Talen had to ask, he just answered listlessly.

"I think he'll be okay. Nick's keeping his company most of the time, so he should be entertained to some amount."

Talen's leer turned dark like his eyes.

"That is so…nice…of Nick."


	12. Chapter 12

His naked torso crinkled his muscles as he sat up, balancing on one arm, and eye roaming, giving Ellis a once over. His sight was glued longer than a once over should, but they both didn't care.

The young body next to him still moved to the irregular balance of breaths, driblets of sweat sparkled as they appeared and disappeared on every part of him. His bones were much more prominent than the last time Nick had seen him, during the outbreak. His muscles still held on to his body tightly, yet his bones were easier to find. Over the bones were the horrid purpled blue bruises, a screaming red of cuts also littering the youthful body.

The bruises on his neck held a much more different meaning, they were sucked into making under positive circumstances.

The incisions were scattered randomly, but all in the same direction. They declined in a downward diagonal, someone right handed raising the knife up to their left shoulder and slashing it toward their right hip. He'll cut off Spencer's hand later.

On impulse Nick pushed off his arm and kissed one of his ribs, he made it curt, while still letting it last long enough to show affection. Against the salted and twisted skin he whispered apologetically.

"I have to go to work." He was indecisive of what he was so guilty for, lying or leaving.

He tilted his head upward, where he could see a forgiving and trusting beam on El's face. His lips were lopsided and bitten, but they smiled down at him with a sincerity that made every flaw unknown to his eye.

"Like Sherlock Holmes." Ellis spoke, no wince, no cringe. Nevertheless he still held his mouth at a small cautious part.

Nick's thumb pressed onto his cheek and glided to the side of his face, his eyes on the tarnished half. He can't hold his other cheek with a comforting hand, but he can at least give it the warmth he offers without the burden of causing the boy pain.

"You're just like a fucking five year old," He climbed off the bed and threw back a smirk as he picked up his clothes, "but yeah, I guess I'm like Sherlock Holmes."

Ellis crawled to his previous position at the head of the bed, slipping underneath the covers and snuggling into his pillow. He was too lazy to find his boxers in the midst of the jumble of clothes strewn all about the floor. Plus those pills helping his pain were making him drowsy. Or it might have been the after glow of probably the most fantastic sex he had ever had.

His eyelashes flickered in Nick's direction; he didn't want to miss any minute of gracefulness that was Nick.

He tried hard to keep them open, but the weight of the past events and his body's healing process was making a dull fatigue drone over his head. When Nick pulled his pants up, the southerner's eyes had closed and his mind followed.

"I think I'm going to get some sushi for dinner," He rifled through his blazers, choosing to add one to his outfit, "you like raw fish?"

He pulled his suit together in front of the standing mirror across the room. When he didn't hear the bubbly southern drawl he glanced into another perspective of the mirror. He saw the sleeping reflection of his lover and couldn't help the little gentle lift of his own lips.

Nick used a light step to walk to the bed, where he placed a simple, lasting kiss on the very tip of his scar, above his brow. He used the same step and delicacy to leave his bedroom, a wide, delighted smile decorating his face.

He ambled into his office with the same upturned pair of lips that he had left his bedroom with. Talen had been leaning up against a wall playing on his phone, his patience was beyond Nick's comprehension sometimes.

"Hey, anything for me today?" He slopped into his seat with his beam becoming bigger.

Talen hid his scrutinizing eyes. "Well yeah, there is one thing. Some underground guys from Cape Cod are having some negotiating troubles with us. They want you to go and give their cut in hand."

Nick finally let his happy visage wipe away into his natural imprinted scowl. Work tended to have that effect on him.

"Why can't I just send it to them?" His emphasis on the word 'send' went unnoticed.

Talen couldn't help the small inference about the fact that his boss wouldn't want to be too far away where as only last week he would have been more than willing.

Adding that to the list, he pressed on.

"They said they don't trust you not to actually deliver the money and that they want to meet you in case you run off. They said some horseshit about how they worked with someone from the Boston area years ago and their cut had never been delivered."

Talen's mind buzzed back to the night he had told Vitale of the Cape Cod chemists cheating their family into getting more money. Two of the head chemists had been shot down in their homes that night. He had never bathed in over one hundred thousand dollars before.

But he remembered how it felt so right, it was less than what he truly deserved, but it still felt _right_.

Nick looked at the door with knitted brows, he really didn't like leaving Ellis with out him here. If he needed something important then his cover is blown, or if there's an emergency here, the innocent boy could get hurt or put in prison. He looked back quickly at Talen, realizing he had been gawking at the door for a good minute.

"All right," He rolled his chair out and sauntered to the door, "I'll hit our money spot then drive down to the lab. I'll be back in a few hours." He would make it a fast trip, the faster he comes back the faster he'll be back with_him_.

Talen, being the _wholesome_assistant he is, walked Nick to the car and waved him out.

He turned back, looking at the tiny enclosure.

Something about this hick has Nick so flustered and unorganized, even distracted. The ingredients used to make a horrible Mob Boss. One that deserved a mutiny of some nature. Now the only thing left to finally mix the ingredients and light the spark was to find the proof.

He moved silently through the house, like a rat.

The dark eyes revitalized in pride when he pushed his ear to the gambler's bedroom door. He couldn't hear any motion or signs of life on the other side of the wood.

He took his time opening the door, lucratively he made no sound when he opened and closed it behind his back. In the light left on from the hanging light he could see the boy he had scarred.

There were a pair of staines clothes tousled on the floor, some of it overlapping the other. He could even pin point a deep red pair of briefs near what looks to be a crumpled pair of pants.

He didn't really believe that the kid would be _that_comfortable to be naked around his employer.

The thick blanket covered more than his chest, reaching almost to his chin. His head was turned, resting on the grotesque gash he himself had shaped. His feminine lips were open only a tad, but his whole face was unruffled. The golden waves brushed his eye lids, making barely noticeable twitches.

Talen moved closer, he could see something on the soft skin of his neck, barely peaking out from the blanket. Neither he nor the others touched his neck that night they had taken him. Having experience he was positive that the supple skin was untouched that night.

He was close enough to touch him, instead mildly he pulled the covers down, past his Adam's apple.

The pure cruelty of his smirk was undeniable...hickeys.

They looked fresh, deep purple marks with splotches of yellow skin. He snickered derisively.

Then with a sick sense of care he brushed the blonde waves out of his closed eyes, his grin extending when the boy's face altered into something akin to pain.

"_N-No…_

He left the room, still grinning through the shrill screams of unadulterated terror that poured out of the door.


	13. Chapter 13

Doctor Martello's head flew from his desk when he heard the howl coming from the other side of the house. His chair's back hit the door with a lumbering whack.

He registered the door's agape opening, quickly dumping it to the back of his mind, when he flew into the room, med kit in hand.

The twenty five year old was curled in on himself, kicking and flailing savagely at nothing. There was a metallic crimson running down the corner of his mouth, from what it looked like he had only cut a few stitches, but not as much the last time.

He cupped his face in a soothing hold, running his thumbs over his jaw line in gentle circles. He referred back to his medical knowledge of the proper way to rouse someone from a night terror.

"Shhh you're dreaming. You're dreaming. Its only a dream." He murmured with the care of a concerned father. The middle-aged man hoped that Ellis could hear him over his resisting shouts.

When Ellis heard another voice, a smooth and offering tenor, he slowed his thrashing into soft frissons of his limbs. His cries for help were subsiding to disturbed whimpers, his eyeballs stirred underneath his lids in a frantic fashion.

Then with a delicacy known to professional doctors, he agitated Ellis out of his sleep by shaking his shoulder in his hand.

His eyes were swollen, red-rimmed, and bloodshot. The blue in his irises were dimmed with shadows of grey. His face altered from fear to confusion to shock in only a few moments after his head had finished swimming.

"Wher-e's Ni-" The Doctor held a finger up to stop him from saying anything more.

"Don't talk, you'll rip more stitches." He ordered considerately then started zipping the red kit open and continued into pulling out the thread and needle for the stitches.

It was only a pinch of stitches that had torn, but it wasn't what was stumping the Doctor. He occasionally looked back at the still open door, wondering why it was left that way when he had entered.

Nick wasn't in the house or he would have come running into the room to wake his screaming friend. He could have just carelessly left it open, but then wouldn't he have had the foresight to see someone entering? He had surly forced it on his workers not to disturb the boy.

He finished his job and applied a gauze with medical tape on only the bleeding half of his cut, then picked himself up from his knees, looking back at the door then the innocent face below him.

"Did you notice anyone come in?" He held his index finger again when the young man's lips parted, following an intake of breath.

Ellis clamped his lips shut and shook his head in reply.

This was incredibly unnerving for him, it just didn't make a lick of sense as to why someone or Nick would leave the door open. Its just an open invitation for someone to waltz in and blow their cover or even worst. If the boy had caught sight from anyone from that particular night, the trauma in his brain would only worsen and he would remember everything. Not only would that endanger the family, but also someone in their mob might get too antsy and kill him.

It could have been the reason someone was in the room. They could have had the motive to finish the young boy off. However before they could do anything he might have startled them by his night terror.

He knew some men don't have the heart to feel anything when they kill, still how can anyone want to hurt this…_boy_? He was so youthful; his exterior held an innocence that could make iron melt. The childlike curves in his cheekbones, the impossibly smooth skin holding no trace of facial hair, his eyes large and shining. For a reason unbeknownst to the doctor, it made him want to protect the young man.

Though if he looked hard enough he could see the reason why he had an emblematic bond with him. He reminded him of his son when he was the southerner's age—a toned, too-kind-for-his-own-good, and illustrative boy.

"Tell you what," Once again his light brown eyes drifted to the door, "I'm going to go get some chips and dip from the kitchen for the both of us. Is there anything that you want while I'm there?"

Ellis glowed in delight, his smile speaking for itself as it presented his rows of gleaming teeth. He looked to the bedside table at the pile of papers, a quirk to his lips.

He pointed to the pad on the table lying next to the drawings. And that smile still played at his lips.

"Oh you draw? Okay I believe I can get some more paper. I'll be right back," As his hand rested on the knob he thought for a second, "…tell me if someone comes to the door." His worried frown had turned into an gifting smile.

Ellis returned it with one of his own, to the doctor's opinion the boy's was much more liberating than his own.

The bag of chips had made a loud racket when he was scouring through the pantry, some of the men had only given him a quick glance. He read the label of the bag and found it suitable for his tastes.

Faster than the chips he had found a salsa dip to go along with it, he also snagged two cans of cola. Just as he was bout to close the door he felt a presence in the kitchen with him. Being more attentive, he turned facing the assistant with the same neutral look he had earlier.

"Talen." He greeted informally.

"Martello. Looks like you have your hands full there, need any help?" Talen gestured to his snacks in his position.

"No." Keeping his one-worded answers also like earlier. Now he was more skeptical of the dark eyed man. He remembered when he had asked about the boy, that was raising a few points to who could have left the door open. He became increasingly wary of the position he was in, he had to make sure nothing vital slipped out, or bringing up any opportunities for Talen to know exactly when he would be alone.

"Well I was only offering sir. No need to be so touchy," He snickered derisively at him.

"Where are you taking all that anyway? Do you have another _patient_or something?"

The doctor went with the safe rout and completely ignored him. He walked past him and made his way to leave.

"Funny, I thought that it was Nick who was keeping the _hillbilly_company anyway." Something in the insulting tone snapped the doctor's head up, he laid the food on the counter and approached the other with an infuriated posture, stiff and hunched, but somehow erect back.

"Nick wont find out that you snuck into the room if you stay away from him." He accused angrily. Getting only an unsettling grin, he picked up the belongings and left.

Talen puckered his lips then snorted a laugh, his fingers indolently playing with the polished counter. _Idiot_

In the corner of his eye he saw the men looking at each other and Talen. Josh was the one to speak for all of them.

"What was he going on about?" The gingered head adult flipped his thumb toward the doorway.

"Oh, he is just taking care of that hick that almost ratted us out. Its sad how we're treating him like complete royalty when he was just going to be a gigantic cancer to this family," He stood more confidently, like a proper leader.

The six workers exchanged curiously interested glances. It amplified Talen's conviction, making his deceptive ruse more credible.

"We could have been in California working under the _Fioretti's_three days ago if it weren't for the hick! Now we have to wait three weeks! Not to mention the fact that because of that 'wait' we are going to be evaluated by them next week and this kid has been distracting and ruining Nick's code for the family. If he ruins this, then we wont get a substantial increase in our finances, no new updated guns and technology for FREE, and higher up standards." They all looked on with hotly hostile faces, growing more agitated. They still looked reluctant to what he had been saying though.

Just one more push.

"If we make it under the Fioretti's. That means no one will every steal from us, people will _fear_us. We'll become known and get the respect we deserve. Nick and this…this redneck are delaying us."

His hand rested onto the doorframe, his back to the men and for the extra dramatics he turned his head with a sure sneer. "If it was me, I would have taken the deal the minute it was landed on our step."

Doctor Martello took a quick pace to his office, using his forearm to cradle the drinks to his side and his hand to pick up a stack of blank paper. He was still livid with Talen and he may have opened Nick's room door a tad bit too forcefully than needed be. His patient hadn't noticed his off attitude though.

He left the foods on the nightstand and laid the papers on Ellis' lap. He took the seat from the abandoned desk and pulled it up on the side of the bed where the young man was scribbling feverishly already.

They munched on chips, of course the salsa spilt somehow everywhere around Ellis, but the papers. The doctor had left his work forms in his office and was too leery to leave the kid alone, he had no trust whatsoever in Talen and had no meanings of risking Ellis' life.

"Nick has been good to you lately?" He asked hoping to close the silence for entertainment's sake. The boy's face brightened obviously, his mouth bubbled with air looking as if he was about to go on a rant, then he remembered his anchor and stopped himself with just a nod, never looking up from his drawing.

"I know it's not in my area to ask, but if I may, how do you two know each other?" The spicy tang of the salsa made him grimace faintly. He pulled the tab on his soda, it fizzed then he took a healing swig.

Ellis grabbed a handful of chips, avoiding the salsa this time and miraculously shoved all of it into his mouth. The doctor counted his blessings that the boy didn't eat with his mouth open.

Ellis gave him an acknowledging quick tilt of his head, motioning to his drawing.

"You're…going to write it out?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the cold tin of the can.

The blond curls windswept when he shook his head.

"Oh I see, you're drawing it." He played with the triangular chip, balancing the red liquid on the tip.

Ellis' tongue prodded out of his lips for a moment, then it retreated back into his mouth and his eyebrows rose. He smiled at the picture in approval. The doctor's smile was amusedly hooked upward.

He turned the paper and embarrassingly Martello's mouth went agape in pure astonishment. He closed it with a cleared throat and blinked rapidly. It was a stunningly accurate sketch of Nick and Ellis fighting off a hoard of infected.

He inspected it silently and found the underlying message within a significant part of the picture. They were holding hands as the still bullets pierced through the monsters. He cocked his head to the side in a small motion and lifted the bags under his tired eyes to squint to see more of the meticulous drawing.

He pulled his back flush against the seat again. "That's a very professional picture you made. Are you an artist or is it a hobby for you?" He was leading up to the question that itched his brain.

Ellis shrugged and turned the paper over to use the back.

"You must really be fond of Nick, seeing how memorable your drawing of him is." He looked him up and down, trying to figure out why someone as cold as Nick would be…_with_someone as warm as Ellis. It couldn't all be physical, over the years he had known the gambler, he had never seen him with someone for their character though. Sure the kid was good looking, no doubt there, but he had to have something else drawing the older man in. He had so many lovable features that it was hard to narrow the choices down.

Again his sandy waves just bounced on his head as he nodded happily.

"He must be a good friend to be helping you like this." His words were slow and pronounced with detail to the lettering.

The young man didn't move his head, but with his eyes he looked at the doctor and the scar on his side depressed into his cheek as he smiled timidly. There was even a dusted red gathering on his cheeks.

His eyes flicked back to the page underneath his fingers, too shy to look up to meet the other's suddenly wide eyes.

Then with no care for his scar or any pain whatsoever he spoke.

"More."


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry for the wait!

* * *

The two men had no other conversations after that for hours. The older of the two simply drew himself into his own thoughts about what was said and just played with that as he read the medical dictionary on his phone. His eyes skimmed over the words faintly, but his mind held other things.

He wasn't very close with Nick, but he wasn't far away from him either. He had watched him work not with greed, but just with a respectable sense of loyalty to the family. Yes, he knew that the gambler loved his share of green, it was what everyone had come to love in the business. However he knew that Nick had a troubled past, one with no home or someone like Vitale to look after him.

He was sure that if it ever came to it, Nick would choose the people in his life than the people on the green bills. He had been a good source of inspiration for the men, it was probably the most likely reason he was chosen to be head of the whole house anyway. In honesty he was not at all surprised that Nick had been chosen among the whole cluster.

_So_it isn't a surprise that this boy would have some sort of fondness for the older man. He was a good man, just with a bad job. Even some of his more decadent actions, like lying to Ellis, had its good intentions. He was protecting not only Ellis, but also the family.

Now why Nick would choose someone as…_un-'Nick'_as the southerner was a bedeviling question. The kid was in short charmingly good looking—even a middle aged, straight as an arrow, type of man could see this.

There was also something underneath the whole 'he makes me a better person' ruse though. Something akin to an emotional bond that had to have pulled them together. It could have been their past fight for survival or maybe something unfathomable.

He knew that Nick needed Ellis and even if he didn't know the hick as much, but he could tell he needed Nick as well. Their relationship is unnatural, yet their love and need for each other is probably the most _natural_thing he had ever witnessed.

The doctor scoffed when he realized that he was even a tad bit jealous of the power that held them together. It was stronger than his marriage. Nonetheless he still thought that it was meant for the both of them.

The stillness in the room had no effect on the still thinking Doctor; he looked up to see a small puff of air pushing a few blonde strands out and into the young man's closed eyes. The notepad had an unfinished portrait of something that he could make out as a dark shape.

The aura of the surrounding silence held his reflections to himself in a more focused and easily readable constellation.

Not that the clack of the door opening wasn't unwelcome, but it had interrupted some amount of the Doctor's thought process.

"Doctor?" The confusion on Nick's face had melted into a heart wrenching twist of worry. Though out of habit, with a short swallow he penciled back his neutral and unreadable demeanor.

"Is there something wrong?" His voice had dropped to a low tone, not a whisper, yet not loud either.

The doctor stood from his chair and stretched his shoulders. "Not anymore, but I have some concerns."

Nick's hand pushed the bouncing threads of hair out of his relaxed eyes. His gaze struck from his eyes to his lazily open lips and back to his lids.

"Mm?" He hummed his question so Ellis wouldn't be disturbed.

The doctor made a quick glance to the door and licked his lips. "He started having one of his 'episodes' in his sleep again, so I came as soon as I could," He could see Nick's back just stiffen and the soft caresses of the boy's face had stopped entirely.

"Someone had come inside the room while you were gone. I think his screaming must have scared them off."

He waited for something from his employer.

Nick's grey-green eyes burned into a searing hollow pit of anger. He had told them. He told them not to come inside this goddamn room. He had ordered it.

Now he has to _enforce_his demands.

He turned away, the sound of his coat lapel twirling made a swift noise.

"Thank you." He said simply as he paced out of the room immediately.

Some of the men had been called to the city to help with some of their drug distributors there. It was okay though, because he just needed one of the men to send a good and thorough message.

On the couch he saw Spencer cleaning his gun, his anger only roused further. He didn't bother hiding it, the reddening of his face, the wrinkles that became more prominent as his eyebrows drew further down, and the animalistic baring of his teeth. The other men in the room already scrambled to the garage when they saw the severe dissatisfaction on his face.

The innocent worker looked up from wiping the rag on the barrel of his gun, he did a double take when he saw his boss above him.

Like a soldier he stood up in his presence.

Like a killer Nick's eyes changed in the sight of the gun.

Talen led the men back into the hideout with little on his mind. His perpetual disdain for Nick had been a motivation to think of other ways or opportunities he could use against Nick to get his own men on his side.

Talen wasn't admittedly good when it comes to getting weird feelings about things, but when they entered through the garage he knew he wasn't the only one to get a shrub of insecurity because of the eerie silence in the house.

Their voices had gone to an off whisper and moving as a group they all trudged to the rec room.

The sight was unimaginable, the smell…unbearable.

There was blood on the couch and over the glass coffee table. Just streams of red smeared on the beige. Some of the falling droplets created puddles of crimson.

No one else was in the room and Talen could hear the fast intakes of breath.

Their eyes, even Talen's, were stumbling all over the wrecked area.

"Sh-shit." Josh stammered out with a breathless voice.

He droned a curious hum. "Well this is…unexpected." Talen said with a disgusting amount of casualty.

The men bit their lips and nodded. On the other end of the room Nick had entered through the door.

He looked at them with a facial expression none had ever witnessed. It was completely filled with a painful amount of stern malice.

"Spencer broke my rule. Clean this up, all of you." He demanded and left with no sort of explanation of who or what had happened.

Talen, with his back facing the shocked men, twirled his fingers in the air signaling them to get started. He then followed Nick out of the room and into his office.

"Talen, I'm going to let you kill anyone that goes near my bedroom excluding me or Martello. Is that clear?" He growled clearly serious about the request.

"Yes, sir."

Talen wanted to laugh at how luck was playing in his favor. Nick was made to be mutinied against. He already had the ruse of dancing with the strings attached to the men using all of this information.

Just like puppets and dominos.

"Nick!" Ellis gasped out as he was pulled out of his sleep.

There were ringing gunshots coming from the outside of his room, somewhere in the facility he was held. He stood up from the bed ready to run out of building or even check if Nick was all right.

He stopped in his steps remembering that this place held the police so everything is okay. He is with the police and so he and Nick are safe. They're safe.

He strained his ears to hear if any other shots had been made, but from what he previously heard there was only three.

He dusted his feet against the wood of the floor from where he stood. Scarlet skimmed on his cheeks as he realized he was still nude. He grabbed his dirty clothes and with slow and thoughtful motions put them on.

He chose to stretch his legs and move in circles around the room, letting his mind focus narrowly on his footing rather than the memorable and cringing noises. After ten minutes of just walking and repeating a mantra of _'He's okay.'_in his head he decided to sit at the door.

That way he could immediately touch Nick when he came into the room instead of waiting till he walks to the bed or even meet him halfway.

His head lifted to the door handle, imagining the down turning motion and even clearly hearing the joyful click of the door opening.

His eyes sparkled, looking stunning. The blue had become so radiant and vivid it was unbelievably gorgeous and the robin's egg blue that shone through the center was breath taking.

They only excelled more when the door opened. He clambered to his feet and just as he expected the gambler had entered.

"He-hey! Whoa-Fireball!" He ungracefully stumbled into Nick's arms wrapping them messily around his neck and waist, shoving his face into Nick's shoulder.

The mafia boss chuckled and returned the embrace with a gentler one of his own. "Why are you awake Kiddo?"

Ellis took a breath of his aroma. "Ah heard them bullets an' got worried for yah." His voice small and quick, mouth barely opening to enunciate his words.

Nick thought for a fast moment. "Its okay, El. It was just one of the police getting trigger happy."

He felt the warm breath that followed the pleased hum that Ellis had let out against the crane of his neck.

"You want to play some blackjack Sport?" Ellis' wrists laid on Nick's shoulders, the older looking down on him with commiserated green plates.

"Okay, I'm feelin' lucky."

Their lips pushed together and melted into one pair.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry about the lateness and also the shortness. :(

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"Sir, we have two more days until the evaluator comes." Talen had been walking speedily behind his employer, trying to snap his head into the right place. The workers of the lab kept stepping in his path, blocking his prying words to Nick. If the things the men held were not hazardous he would have uncaringly pushed them aside.

"You still have to import the packaging to Maryland, consider the lab in New York, and give the cape cod chemists their pay so they can fucking get off their asses and start making some goods!" He had dropped the shield for his anger and snapped at the incompetence of his boss.

The ridiculous situation they were in was becoming a large weight on his shoulders. This should have never even have been a _situation_in the first place.

Nick's negligence was going to ruin their chances for California. He is finally reaching the last stone in his collection of stepping-stones to success—only to have it ruined by his pompous excuse for a boss. He had been purposely disagreeing to sign off on deals and trades that could efficiently make a good mark on the Fioretti's and Talen could only imagine why.

Nick leaned over the shoulder of one of the chemical mixers, nodding when the man gave him a questioning look. He gave Talen only the back of his head and an apathetic tone of voice.

"Talen, go start the car I think we're done here." He murmured, offering no eye contact.

The assistant ground his teeth and growled, pushing his way through the cramped building to head to the car garage above them.

He kicked the rubble near their black Escalade, eyes roaming on the slowly evaporating dust of the dirtied floors. The dark charcoal of it made it seem to be like smoke from a fire.

He felt like a child, being ordered to wait outside. It was humiliating and ludicrous.

This was that southern prick's entire fault, he was getting in the way of everything. He should have just sliced his throat when he had the chance and now he only proved to be a tumor for his plans.

His head lifted at the sound of feet crunching and tapping along the ground. He turned to see the smugly strict face of his employer. The perfect, yet forced, structure, his greased hair pulled back to label him with class, it was as if Nick was one revolting imperfectly perfect display of nothing. He forced the sweetly bitter vile back to his stomach.

The mentioned man walked past him to the side door, sighing contently and checking his phone for any messages. The other filed into the drivers door without a word.

"I understand you're stressed," Nick said, "But I think that maybe its best if we," There was an unfilled pause, Nick gathered his words in a logical order before opening his mouth.

"If we don't make it to California. Think about it, all the profits we make already are distributed one hundred percent. We don't have to worry about rationing the money any less."

The dark eyes twisted into a fury filled grimace. The words like knives cutting deep into his ears and deeper into his head. He was beyond angry…he was utterly manic.

The amount of stubborn resolve he had pulled through was absurd, but it kept with his façade.

"I understand," He relaxed his vein popping jaw, "But can I ask what we are going to do with the Fioretti's?" He tried to hold the seething tone. "We can't exactly _cancel_on them." He added.

Nick rested his head against the warm glass, again letting out a blissed breath. "Let them come and if they say we're capable we'll decline. Easy as that."

"Yeah, very easy." The road that passed them turned into quick blurs of color.

"_GAUGH_" He desperately snatched the stolen breaths back into his lungs. His whole body was hunched over his tangled legs. His only view was his sheet-covered lap, leaving him confused for where he was for a stunned moment.

Then he felt the warm and large hands on his back, the roughness of the palms ensuing a familiar calming of his fretting mind. They circled the lower part of his spine, moving in a gradient of smooth caresses to his shoulders. His breaths came out in curt pants that were worryingly loud and frantic.

"Hey, hey. Its okay. Calm down Tiger. It was just a bad dream." Nick's nose nuzzled underneath Ellis' jaw, mirroring the circles on his back. His breathing has finally fallen in cadence with his rhythmic beating of his heart.

The young man was lowered to the bed with toned arms, and wrapped protectively in those shielding limbs. He pushed himself so his chest was touching the gambler's and comfortably pulled his own arms around his lover's waist.

The windowless room held no hint of light from the crack underneath the door, so they were still safely sown into the belly of the darkness.

"What time do yah hafta' go to work?" The sound of his voice was adorable when he was trying (and failing) to be quiet.

Nick hummed in sleepy thought. "Probably few hours." He whispered lazily, kissing the other on the hairline of his forehead. Ellis was so bad at hiding his feelings, he could already tell that the kid was reluctant to let him leave.

The arms wrapped around his torso tightened in need. It was a lovely feeling to be not only needed, but wanted. Ellis wanted Nick to stay, he wanted him to cuddle, he wanted him to kiss him, and he wanted Nick.

He needed the feeling just as much as he needed Ellis. The family is keeping him from... _this_.

So he brought his decisions to one major conclusion.

The men all sat on each side of the rec room, filling the silence with awkward coughs and stares at the bloodstain on the empty sofa. Talen had demanded that they meet to discuss something important. Hopefully, they looked at the door.

The dark haired man had to be sure that Nick was away and even better distracted. Probably sucking the hillbilly's cock, he thought to himself.

The men again looked to him as they looked to Nick, a leader. He grinned widely, but let it slip into an over exaggerated look of concern.

"We wont be making it to Las Angeles boys. Nick is planning to decline the Fioretti family even if they do accept us." A few men stood up outraged, already sputtering curses and angered phrases.

He held his hands out, gesturing them to sit back down into their seats. "I know! I know, trust me I'm just as mad. But if you all want to get to California then you'll have to listen to me and _only_me."

The shouts had suspended to mutterings of questions and agreements.

"Good, now follow what I say exactly and you'll get what you want."

_And I will get what I deserve._


	16. Chapter 16

Nick knew this day wasn't going to be easy. It might be one of the hardest days in his entire career, but he knew if this played out well, he would end up with Ellis. No interruptions. No dangers. No lies.

That gave him the motivation to swing his feet over the edge of his bed, slowing as his heels skimmed the fuzzy felts of his carpet. He looked back at the still snoozing boy. The thin beam of light raining into the room dimly from the crack underneath the door unveiled El's serene expression. The air became more warm and comfortable for Nick and even without the needed amount of light he could see the younger's chest depress and expand in calm waves.

The smile on his face lingered even as he pulled his clothes on. He was getting out of here. He'll just tell Ellis he got fired or something mundane and easy like that. From then on no more lies, of course about anything new. If he ever asks about his job as a 'detective' he'll just change the subject curtly or say its nothing of interest. They would live together in Savannah or hell even Vegas. The world was his oyster, but now with Ellis, the world their oyster.

He could already hear the scribbling pen on the paper of his will for the Family. It might be more than difficult to leave, but his men know how loyal he is to the family. Plus they know if he rats them out he would be in a deeper hole than any of them.

Everything will go the way he wants it to.

Everything will go the way I want it to, Talen thought.

He speed walked back and forth in the rec room just waiting, thinking, and pacing. His mind was crowded with worst-case scenarios and all the errors that could be planted into the plan. It was risky and every step was hanging delicately. If there were one thing to go wrong it would all crumble into the earth. He paced harder thinking of every single preparation that was added into the structure, wondering if it's enough.

When Jason sped into the room with a determined stoic guard worn as his expression, his thoughts narrowed to the first step. Which evidently was the hardest and of most risk. The heavy object in his back pocket was felt more clearly now that he pictured the process of how it would be used. The one in his coat pocket, however, felt much more _sharp_.

"He's out?" He stole a look to the exit of the room. Noticing no one he looked back into the eyes before him.

"Yeah, he's in his office. I'd make it fast just in case." He gave him a sincerely sly smile and patted his shoulder respectively.

"It wont take long."

The click of the knife opening was quick, but said its message. The glint of impending anger in the ebony of his eyes enforced the message.

Jason nodded, swallowed the pang of fear that had broken through his passive visage and backed out of the room to follow through with the other men.

Ellis isn't a deep sleeper. That didn't mean he was a light one either, but when something as vivid, loud, and forceful wills its way into his senses he can be thrusted into reality faster than a bullet.

Someone was brushing his hair out of his face. Someone with cold hands, soft hands.

Someone who was _not_Nick.

With a tired curiosity his eyes lifted open, his vision blurred from sleep. The form above him just a black distortion…then he blinked.

His breath stopped. His heart followed. All the blood that colored his youthful face had been drained to pump into his more vital organs. The organs that should be helping him breath, to move, and to escape.

The same man. The same man that had ripped his own face. That had dug a knife into his flesh. The man with the twisted smile, the dark hair, the dark _eyes_.

His mind was immobile still. It was locked under the pressure of the sick endless gaze it had been fallen under. His mouth opened to do something, to scream, but he only mumbled slurred vowels. The noiseless whimpers that left him stopped when something cold touched the very center of his throat.

He was familiar with the feel of a cold blade burning his skin by now.

"Okay, Okay, Okay…listen," Talen's lips quirked and his eyebrows furrowed, "…kid. You're going to follow me to a car just outside."

The younger's eyes were wide, tears brimming on his waterline, as he tried to keep himself conscious of what was being said. How did he find him? Is Nick okay? Oh god if he hurt Nick. What if he hurt Nick?

Talen pushed the knife deeper into the fibrous skin, seeming to wake him from his unfocused daze. Ellis cried out a strained sob.

"Understand?" He growled with an animalistic satisfaction and leaned down sickeningly close to Ellis' face. The southern boy's head nodded in unwanted consent.

He pulled back, taking Ellis' arm into his hand and dragging him out of the bed, Ellis caught himself with a painful slam of his heels to the wooden floor, a slice of pain shot through his ankles. He was pulled to his erect hight, it wasn't till he was standing that he noticed he was only clad in Nick's boxers.

The cool breeze wasn't what made a body quacking shudder run down his nerves.

It was the hungry look in Talen's orbs that made him quiver. He stepped back, the back of his knees hitting the side of the bed.

The horrifying man took a step forward.

The chaste dread that had pulled Ellis' face into a look of pure terror edged Talen closer.

"Why does Nick like you so much?"

Oh God the man was too close. He was just too close to Ellis, enough that he could feel the hot breath on his own face. He wanted to run past him, through him, backwards. But he was glued to the floor in a stilling shock that made his limbs tingle with sensitive goose bumps.

"Is it your body?" The whisper was followed with a light hand tracing his stomach, the eyes above him lidded lewdly.

Ellis choked on his own sob. The knife that was at his throat was now being dragged to the back of his neck, then trailed downwards on his spine.

The horrible man pressed the tip in the center of his spine, forcing his chest to finally be tangent with Talen's. It was utterly disgusting and perturbing in a synchronized swirl of desperation. His icy fingers' pads grazed the tip of his nipple. The younger gasped with a loud yelp.

The amount of questions building up in his head became too overwhelming along with all the electric jolts to his brain, it was confusing his body. He didn't know what to feel at this point. Pleasure or fear?

The blonde's head fell forward into the crevice of the other's neck.

"St-stop" he whispered in a meek whine.

"Or is it your neck. I saw the marks he left on you the other week. Interesting how he shows more ownership for you than to the family." His digits rubbed one of the purpled love marks on his neck. His index finger smoothed the skin at the curve of his jaw line, outlining the bone till he reached the end of the boy's chin.

"What," His breath was escaping him heavily and too fast. "…are you-you talkin' 'bout?" The knife that dipped into one of the nubs of his spine forced him to arch his back into the other body.

"ARGH!" Ellis wailed with a cracked cry.

Then the knife was gone and in one smooth motion he was being trudged out of the room, barely keeping up with his own feet or movements. His heart pumped with a ferocity that feared him into thinking he would have a heart attack right there.

It was all melted together, the last thing he remembers before some sort of bag was shoved on his face was the black Escalade filled with strange looking men.

The last thing he thought coherently was that the blinding black inside of the bag was a lighter shade than Talen's eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry about the wait! Also i didn't read this over to check for spelling mistakes so hopefully there are none! I am just way too tired :P

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Doctor Martello was an aged man with a beautiful wife, three grown children as well as two grandchildren and one on its way. His life held its regrets and its mistakes, his job being one. It wasn't the fact that he was in danger on a constant basis, but more as the shame. The legal issues were small compared to the guilt he felt when he witnesses one of the men he works alongside kills an innocent (or not depending on how you look at it) person. He knows he has the power to put all these men behind bars. It would take a simple phone call and he could save more people than he has in his career as a doctor.

His guilt isn't worth the life of his family. He had come to the conclusion long ago that if there could be anything he can do to makeup for all his faults, he would take it in a heartbeat.

Martello was old though, nearly past the time for retirement even. He made it through the workday praying and convincing himself that his family is well off because of what he does, or what he doesn't do. So what if all the guilt fell on him? One sacrifice for the whole wellbeing of his family is all worth it.

As he packed his unused medical tools into his red medical kit, he sighs looking at the door. In his monotonous routine to keep himself sane, he thought of his wife's smile and his grandchildren's smiles. He smiled absently and walked out of the building, thinking of the food his lovely spouse had cared so deeply to make.

His cathartic daydream came to a screeching stop and his smile thawed into an agape frown. The doctor exhaled slightly as the door to the van shut, and inhaled that same breath to rush straight to his car. It was a hasty decision, but he couldn't risk going back into the house incase anyone else was there working under Talen.

Martello refused vehemently to think that Nick would have ordered Talen to hurt Ellis.

"They want you to come and look at the new underground factory. We think it's a good production place, spacey too!" Josh said with a disturbing amount of buoyancy. The two other men, robust and hefty men that were more mountains than human, rolled their eyes.

Nick's eyebrow rose as the other furrowed downward, he was lost on why he had to visit the factory to approve of it. Pointless, but he guessed necessary. He looked down at the motionless sheet of paper in his hand, indecisive about leaving or finishing his will. He sniffed, and then replied with a tired huff. "Yeah, yeah. Go get the car."

The drive had been a silent one; only uncomfortable coughs or short reluctant glances to the other. Nick was too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay attention to the microscopic signs that something was a tad off, too busy thinking of his future with Ellis. It was the only thought that was wracking his brain, emotions seeping into him whenever he was reminded that only in one day's time he'll be with Ellis.

Even though there was that little trickle of fear that after they leave, Ellis would figure Nick out for the mobster he is. He pushed it back and pulled only uncharacteristic optimistic thoughts to the forefront of his mind.

Lightly a smile tugged at him, immediately relaxing to his normal frown as the car came to a dusty stop. The place was trifling, old, and outdated. Nick grimaced at the state that it was in, the bricks in the walls a dull gray with ascents of green from the vines growing into it. Two of the four windows were shattered and he could smell a horrid stench of something spoiling.

Maybe it was a good thing he came, the place was a dump. They all got out of the car, he was the last to close his door.

Purposely, the men let Nick lead ahead. Again the glances ensued.

Nick cautiously turned the knob, with a forceful push the door swung fully open. It was just a concrete room. No furniture and even the windows didn't help with the dim haunting gray that hardly illuminated the occupants of room.

Nick's eyes grew large with disbelief, his pulse starting to race and his feet already moving to sprint to the tied up and bagged boy. With a feral growl he was held back forcefully by his arms, two massive weights gripping his shoulder in a lock.

The two burly men that had led him to the factory were now holding him back from reaching Ellis' quivering body. That and the gun cocked at his head being held firmly by Talen.

"Talen? What the fuck are you doing?" He shouted with venom, spit flying out of his mouth. The anger flaming his face and burning his veins.

Talen rested a hand on Ellis' shoulder, ignoring the way the boy shoved it away with a harsh shrug. "I'm not doing anything Nick. I just am here for what's best for the family, you know…doing _your_job."

"What-" Talen descended toward him, interrupting him with a throaty chuckle. All of the other men around him pulled their own weapons out of their restraints, training the barrels all on Ellis. His face paled to an opaque white.

"Well actually I'm making sure you do your job. Boys." One of Nick's arms was let go of its impossible hold, he immediately thought of swinging it to strike, and then decided against the idiotic action. Ellis was too far deep into this.

His breath was deep and loud and he glared dangerously at the grinning man.

"Nick. What's he-he talkin' 'bout? What job?"

Immediately the young southern drawl softened his enraged features. His eyes tore away from the dark ones in front of him to the floor with shame.

Talen laughed loudly, Nick held back a wince. The crazed assistant slapped his shoulder and stood by his side, facing Ellis now. "His job? You don't know what he does for a living? Oh tisk tisk tisk… Why don't you tell the kid?" Using the barrel of the gun, he pushed Nick's stiff chin upward, forcing him to make eye contact to the hurt boy.

Their eyes stared deeply in each other's depths, both reading the other for a different reason. Nick hoped that Ellis could see how sorry he was for all of this.

"I…I'm not a detective," The whole room burst into a struggle of laughter. Nick swallowed a thick lump, unsurprised by the confused hurt filled look on the youthful face. He held his breath letting it out only with more penetrating words.

"I'm the boss of the Boston Mob. I-I sell drugs and kill…kill people,"

Nick wished he didn't have to distinguish the difference between utter horror from the dreadful hurt on his lover's face. It pained him to see Ellis breaking with tears of pain and breaths of panic. Nick felt an awful clog in his chest at the sight of his scar. He had gotten so used to it that he forgotten it was there…

The gambler hadn't even noticed Talen until the horrid man spoke up. He waved his hand out, the Cheshire smug grin still framed on his face. "Keep going Nick."

Ellis looked at him with a silent beg for something Nick couldn't give. He wished he could lie about this, go back into his mind, to the fantasy of Ellis in a home and happy with him.

It was funny how he had never thought that he could love and hate those sweet blue eyes as much as he did now.

"I…I confirmed for you to be beaten," The green-eyed man's eyes knitted down with mortified sadness, "I didn't know it was you though! I-I swear…if I had known-"

"Aww, poor baby." Talen stood in front of him with a mocking frown, and then turned on his heel. Nick's fury came back in a large tide, he snarled under his breath and cursed at the men. His free hand balled in a tight fist, until Josh pushed a gun into his grip.

Talen knelt down to eye-level directly in front of the southerner. Ellis, in desperation, looked up at him, his eyes asking for answers. Talen could have scoffed.

"You see Ellis, he lied to you. He manipulated you till you fell for him, loved him, and all to keep his job. Such a pity, someone as nice as you to be taken advantage of like that."

With a theatrical twirl he looked to Nick. "Now Nick, its inevitable for the hick to die, but because me being the nice man I am," He stalked toward one of the surrounding men, "I'm giving you a choice."

"Kill him with that gun and we all go home get back to our normal lives, you can leave and I will take over the family. Or…"

It happened so quickly, the unsheathe of the hunter's knife, the blood spewing from the man's neck, and the sudden thud of the dead body hitting the floor. Ellis gasped, interrupted by a strained sob.

"I could just take him off your hands for you."


	18. Chapter 18

SORRY FOR THE WAIT!

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The sheer murderous intent blazing in Nick's eyes was more lethal than the weighty gun in his hand. His eyebrows twitched, indecisive if they should knit or tilt them down with his discernible fury, the finger lightly touching the trigger felt numb. He could only feel the cold stream gushing in his veins, that and the searing heat pulsing in his chest.

His eyes stayed shaking on the kneeling boy, even when the dark mass that was Talen entered his line of sight, right behind the pain eyed southerner.

"Please Nick, I know how you hate for me to make you wait. So if you could make at least one smart decision today, I would make it fast." At the last syllable he cocked his own gun, pushing the barrel right at Ellis' temple. The void thrumming around the men of the room was horrendous. Nick could barely recognize his own voice when it met the surrounding air.

"What…What do you want from me Talen? Huh? Tell me, what do you want?" In the back of his head he was proud that he didn't stammer, showing only his bared teeth to give way his unhiding emotions.

"Don't stall Nick. Make your decision in the next ten seconds," His hand shot out and in a painful grip, pulled the blonde's hair, forcing his head up, "Or I'll do it for you."

"Talen I cant-"

"Ten."

"Please Talen-!"

"Nine."

The gun lifted, pointing it directly at the counting man's chest. "Talen stop this right now! I-I was already going to leave! I was even working on the will!" He shouted, his voice breaking. The words tumbled out desperately.

A strike of shock slapped Talen in his face, his hand almost going lax on the gun. Nick's own expression faded into something akin to horror as the dark eyed man pulled the gun away and pulled his knife out.

"Tell me," A fist full of hair tightened cruelly, a griped cry inflicted when the cool end of the blade, still sticky with blood, rubbed at Ellis' throat. Nick's hand shook more violently, his eyes fixated on the tears trailing down the young cheeks that he had kissed numerous times, freshly in his memory. The clear unraveling of the emotions inside him was pushing his whole mind to its limit. He knew though, shooting Talen would do nothing for them. Only guarantee their deaths.

The men had orders to dispose of the two men even if their head was killed, it would do nothing for Ellis. He clenched his teeth tighter than before, his hand now sweating, and the gun felt like a two-ton weight.

"…What would you have done with all the money? Who would have been put in _your_position? Who Nick!" The bellowed demand echoed around, the men shifted, all of them recollecting the ferocious edge and suddenly feeling their fleeting safety even with guns.

Nick's throat compressed visibly, swallowing that bundle of nerves that was clouding his thinking. And for his answer, he looked down to the Ellis, an apology louder than words playing through the silence.

Talen's laugh rang out again, puncturing a hole in the last precious moments; he shook his head and scoffed. "Your time is up _sir_."

"Talen-!" A shrill police siren cut his protest short. Then another, followed by numerous more piercing sirens, soon a lot full of police cars and even ambulances surrounded the whole building.

"Talen Mathews, come out if the building with your hands above your head and tell your men to stand down. If you do not cooperate we will be forced to shoot."

Nick had never thought the day would come that he would actually be silently rejoicing at the sound of a police officer. The men holding him back slackened their grip, everyone in the room looking around themselves, the fear leaking off their faces in worried glances and thick movements.

Talen, the dark eyed man, looked at the windows, the blue and red lights creating odd shadows on his face. His eyes twitched, his neck strained, his veins popping through his whole visage. With a feral growl he pulled Ellis by his hair, the fibers ripping in little strands. He pulled his arms around his waist, and the hand holding the knife squished the handle.

Ellis' head lifted, his chin pointing up northward away from the blade, but froze when the now booming voice of his captor collided with his senses. "No! Not this time! Come any closer and I kill the kid—"

Ellis fell to his knees, bruising them as they impacted the concrete. There was a faint ringing in his ears and the sudden wane of the burning sting on his scalp caused him to gasp with relief. The floors leveled underneath his hands, it took him a moment to realize he was even on his four limbs before there were sounds of men surrounding him, lifting his arm to be helped up.

The blonde could barely focus on the motor movements of his body, but he lifted his head.

Blue met a hardened, raging green. In a blinding moment, they took in each other's well being through their clashing stares. Then the black, only moments ago surrounding just the edge of his vision, overtook his whole eyesight. He went slack in the policeman's arms.

Nick watched as his lover was being led out, somewhere safe, the man holding his arms behind his back was currently handcuffing him, repeating the scripted words that never even met his thoughts.

His own focus was pointed to the officers trifling with the dead body on the ground, the dark eyes that still seemed to bore into his, even with the lack of whatever light was behind them. The starch sheet pulled over those never ending, once trusting eyes was the last thing he saw before he was turned toward the flashing police car.


	19. Chapter 19

Last Chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed! You guys really made me want to work hard on this fic 3

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Nick's chest burned with excitement as he sprinted to the front of the cue of imperturbable prisoners. With his normal behavior, he cut rudely in front of the tattooed, bike-loving prisoner, the man huffed then shoved at Nick's shoulder. "Hey, Colonel Sanders, no cuts!"

The other people behind them, familiar with the two's small, yet amusing, quarrels kept their displeasure to themselves, other than the occasional scoff or humph. Soon after their incarceration to the correctional facility, Francis and Nick became somewhat of frenemies. The entertainment they brought with their witty banter and occasional physical arguments brought some humor to the prisoners, so for the sake of their boredom they allowed the men to handle each other.

Nick rolled his eyes, back still to the greased up biker, he turned with his orange sleeves crossed over his chest. "Shut it Francis, you know I only see him once a month while you get to see Rochelle like every week. Just give me a fucking break." He spat with little patience.

They both stared at each other with a hard, unmoving glare, too seemingly stubborn to back down. They were alike in more ways than they would admit, persistent, greedy, and egocentric. Some of the convicts had made mental notes on how those reasons alone could be what attracted them to their vituperative friendship.

Francis, being the one to pull back, rolled his eyes and muttered: "I hate my conscious." Nick smirked a proud, boasting smile. It's meaning arranged into a giddy, full-hearted beam when the door's buzzer sounded through the grey halls. His heart raced, he wished he could make his feet move as fast as the organ that was currently pummeling his ribs.

An officer on the other side pulled the door open, the white light and unique murmurs from the other room drowned the pushy prisoners. In a single file line, they casually walked out, all looking at each table for a familiar face. Nick could hear all the sighs behind him, being let out as eyes settled contently on someone in particular in the room.

Before he knew it, the ex-mafia head breathed out his own long hum filled sigh.

Green met blue. Lovely, lovely blue.

With no sound, Nick carefully sat on the plastic bench across from the southerner. They took the other's appearance, equal amount of worry shone through knitted brows. Ellis had become much healthier over the few months that had flown. His tan glow popped against the white of his tee-shirt and the white popped against the blue of his faded jeans. His eyes, though held no more euphoric glimmer, still had a smile in them. His face however lacked the characteristic bend of his lips.

Nick to Ellis looked worn down to the tired, aged man that he was. Over the course of a few months, the man he once knew became the man who had been hiding under the façade of youth and power. The vibrancy from his emerald eyes now dulled into an olive hue, the purple sagging bags underneath those orbs made his face droop. His unkempt hair lost its shine, grey strands standing out among the raven black. Ellis couldn't tell if it was the lighting or if it was the truth, but the man's cheeks looked hollow, taut only at his cheekbones.

They both swallowed their nerves and the younger of the two finally broke the thick air with a filling smile. "Hey. How," He already regrets the next words out of his mouth, "…how are ya?"

Nick, too happy to actually care about the impossible amount of miserable answers he could give, ran his fingers through his course hair and even tittered. The casual, usually affectionate, conversation totally contradicted the setting of a prison visiting room. In fact, Ellis could probably get his answer _by_ the location of where he was, no need for asking the man being held there.

"I'm uh, fine. Haven't really had any major problems here this month." The silence after the uncomfortable chuckles was even worst.

Ellis seemed to be looking everywhere, but the man in front of him. "Well you know…maybe they'll let ya out early for good behavior—"

"Its life dumbshit." Nick's mood crumbled into a bitter resentment of his sentencing. "Not ten years, hell not even fifty. Its fucking _life_."

Ellis, not knowing what else to say, just nodded in affirmation of the unsettling fact. "Yeah, Ah…know." He cleared his throat, giving up on avoiding the man's eyes.

Green met blue.

They looked at each other both desperate in the determination of reading the other's mind.

Finally Ellis' eyes softened into something akin to hesitancy. "Ah came to tell you somethin'…difficult."

Nick's head lifted more. Suddenly he was more attentive, all hostile feelings forgotten. He watched alertly as the blonde's eyes screwed shut, just for a small moment, then opened with a pained apology.

Immediately Nick recoiled, his defenses hardening as his strategic poker face painted his face. Ellis let out a silent breath, and then spoke with a low and concentrated tone.

"I can't see you anymore Nick. I can't come back here anymore Nick. It's too painful for me Nick. I jus' can't do it anymore." The gambler's name in that southern drawl felt so forced, so hopeless. Ellis was just repeating it over and over to test if it will ever come out as anything other than just a name of someone so trivial to his life. He repeated it to see if Nick was someone who hadn't let him down after so much time fighting side by side.

Therefore Nick came to a sad understanding. still cowering behind that indestructible mask. With just a compliant nod, he accepted the boy's words. He accepted the apology for the collapse of the relationship, the apology that his life had practically turned to just a worthless speck, and the apology of being so helpless to the situation entirely.

What Nick didn't accept was the apology that any of this was Ellis' fault. Because deep in those guilty eyes he could see the swimming thoughts the prying 'what if'.

Green met blue.

"Listen Kiddo. You go home. You do whatever it takes to forget me. You do whatever it takes to remember me. Whatever that keeps you from thinking this," he swept his arms out to the side," is your fault."

A guard tapped his baton on the table; they didn't look away from each other to glance at the man. "Five more minutes."

Nick continued despite. "Go home and work at the shop. Go home and drink beer with your friends, light Keith on fire for all I care, Just go back to your life before me."

Ellis' chest rose and fell. "Is that what you really want?"

His answer was immediate. "Yes."

The same guard came back and barked: "Lets go! Back to your cell!" Then roughly man handled Nick up to a standing position. That same wonderful twang that had filled his ears with bliss, protested the man's hasty removal. But he was pulled to the door that he came through before he could say goodbye.

So with a painful crane of his neck.

Green met blue.


End file.
